<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>moonlight dream, allow me to wake by taeyomi (buttercream)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825686">moonlight dream, allow me to wake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercream/pseuds/taeyomi'>taeyomi (buttercream)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band), WayV (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Getting Together, M/M, Magical Realism, More tags to be added, Triplets, Witchcraft, Witches, family related issues, mild mystery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:41:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,957</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercream/pseuds/taeyomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a lot people would say about the house on Horse Head Street and the ones living there. Most of it were fabrications, rumors passed down generations of neighbors and townspeople that swore to have been unfortunate victims of the Family’s nefarious deeds.</p><p>‘It’s witchcraft,’ they would whisper.</p><p>-</p><p>Alternatively: Ten comes back home eleven years later to a list of chores, his aunts gone missing, and his brothers on the verge of collapse. There's also John Suh, which is another issue entirely.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prologue: new moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh, my. Here we go. I've been working on this fic for weeks, so I've developed an unhealthy attachment to it. I just love witches and magic and this is super self-indulgent, so just bear with me, please.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The house on Horse Head Street is an old one. It dates about a hundred years back but unlike many aged buildings in town, it gleams with a brand new shine without ever having been renovated. The floorboards are made of a strange mix of black walnut and cherrywood, while the window seats, wainscoting, and banisters all came from the same type of red oak. Despite its age and the behavior of its inhabitants, the house would never be found in disarray. Some would even say that, at night, when all the lights had been turned off, the wind would come in through a window left ajar, blowing at the drapes on its way in, sweeping all the dust that had been collected throughout the day.</p><p>There was a lot people would say about the house on Horse Head Street and the ones living there. Most of it were fabrications, rumors passed down generations of neighbors and townspeople that swore to have been unfortunate victims of the Family’s nefarious deeds.</p><p><i>‘It’s witchcraft,’</i> they would whisper, watching as the pair of middle-aged women ushered three little boys into a grocery shop.</p><p><i>‘The parents died during a ritual,’</i> was the topic of conversation when the Family of five crossed the street towards the school building.</p><p>Around the corner of the dentist’s office as the women brought the boys inside, hushed muttering could be heard if one was so inclined, <i>‘Now the poor boys are stuck with the crazy aunts. Who knows what they’re planning on teaching them?’</i> </p><p>As if losing your parents isn’t enough tragedy, these boys are being left to their own devices, people would say. The women living on Horse Head Street had never been married, never had children of their own. Would they know how to handle not one, but three boys? That wasn’t even the only concern! The external area of the house was sufficiently spooky on regular days with all the ivy growing around the dark frame and the wisteria climbing up the old oak tree. Despite the windows being all covered by heavy draperies, you could just tell that something wicked was at work inside.</p><p>The talk of the town never really mattered to the Family. It had always been like that, it would always be like that long after they were gone. Ten, Kun, and Doyoung had learned to expect the glares and curses of people in town after many summers spent with the aunts even before their parents’ passing. To them, the house was never frightening nor unwelcoming. The aunts’ cats would always greet the triplets the minute they crossed the white fence, jumping over the cabbage in the garden in a hurry to meow at their feet. Mornings in the house were always uplifting. Aunt Hee was in charge of breakfast, so that meant pancakes, waffles, and an assortment of fruits the boys (in particular Ten) would never pay attention to. At twilight, the boys would huddle together in the sitting area with one of the huge books the aunts kept in their library. There, they’d read about the most varied things, from herbology and how to treat wolfsbane to brewing a potion of luck. </p><p>From an early age, the boys understood that their Family wasn’t like the others. While all of their classmates celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas, they would be getting together for Litha, Yule, and Samhain. If a black cat crossed paths with one of the triplets, they’d be hoping for good news when other people would yelp and say a prayer for protection. They knew they were different, and that was never seen by any of them as a bad thing.</p><p>As they grew, each of the triplets developed their own affinity with the magic the aunts taught. At sixteen, Doyoung was fascinated by the art of brewing, pouring just the right amount of magic in amongst all the ingredients. He loved watching them cook, belly nearly touching the edge of the cauldron with how close to the stove he would stand whenever one of the aunts was brewing. With time, Doyoung began experimenting with his own recipes.</p><p>For Kun, it was about plants. Come hell or high water, he would be found in the garden with the herbs and flowers, letting his magic flow whenever the pads of his fingers touched a leaf or a stem. Kun also had a knick for energy gathering, despite not spending too much time practicing it (it was, in Aunt Sun's opinion, a waste of potential). He'd be much more at ease underneath the shadow of the old oak, a fallen bud of lilac in hands, and his notebook on his knees.</p><p>Now Ten had a different perspective. He felt like magic was a privilege; not many individuals around the globe have been graced with the opportunity to practice and their Family out of all Families in this city was <i>the one</i>. Magic was not to be taken for granted, so why not get the most out of it? So for weeks, he begged the aunts to teach him how to conjure. They'd turn their heads and deem him too young, not mature enough to handle the stress of magical conjuring apprenticeship.</p><p>"When you get older, we might think about it," they'd say.</p><p>What else was left to learn about potions and plants and crystals? They'd gone over and over those since day one, Ten could recite all types of potions and their purposes. He could brew a Perfect Skin elixir within minutes; Ten could gather enough energy to have the wisteria growing around their house climbing even higher. Still, the aunts would maintain that he wasn't ready. As if that would have stopped him.</p><p>It was Kun who found him in the library way past their bedtime. The aunts had gone to bed earlier, courtesy of a sleep potion Ten slipped into their dinner just for the occasion. He'd tiptoed his way out of their bedroom and into the library the second he thought his siblings were asleep. He definitely should have known better.</p><p>"This attitude of yours is gonna grant you a lot of trouble in the future," his brother said, shoulder leaning onto the threshold, arms folded on his chest as he observed Ten from the door.</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Ten kept skimming the grimoire in search of something, anything that would initiate him in magical conjuring. "I don't recall ever asking for your opinion," he retorted.</p><p>With a snort, Kun said, "When have we ever needed permission to stick our noses in each other's businesses?" He took a seat next to Ten, elbowing him to be let in. With another roll of eyes, making a show of expressing how much of a burden it was to share secrets with his brother, Ten gave in, pushing the book a bit towards Kun so he could also read.</p><p>They were stuck on a page filled with hieroglyphs and drawings that didn't make any sense. The frown on Kun's face kept getting deeper and deeper, and Ten was almost losing faith when a voice startled them both into blowing out the candle lighting up the table.</p><p>"You're not going anywhere with that book," said Doyoung. He came out of literal nowhere, a much bigger book pressed against his chest.</p><p>"Goddess, you almost killed us," Kun admonished, waving him over.</p><p>"That's what you get for sneaking out without me," Doyoung padded closer, placing the book he was holding on the table. "If any of you had consulted me, I'd have said the aunts keep their important grimoires in the conservatory."</p><p>As Doyoung settled next to them and browsed the grimoire, Ten blew gently at the candle, smiling to himself when it came back to life.</p><p>"Here," Doyoung announced with his finger on a specific part of the page. "First contact. This is what you're looking for." He glances at his siblings before sliding the book over to them. "Magical conjuring is not only about talking to demons and spirits, but it's also about manipulating the energy around you in a massive way."</p><p>"Like energy gathering?" Kun inquired. "We can do that, we learned energy gathering."</p><p>"Quite like energy gathering, but a little more chaotic?" Doyoung pondered.</p><p>Ten liked the sound of that. "Can we make things explode?" He asked.</p><p>Squinting, Doyoung answered, "I assume you can. Please tell me you're not planning on exploding anything."</p><p>In all honesty, Ten could use explosion as a problem-solving tactic in a number of situations, starting with the assholes at school who just wouldn’t leave them alone. He still hadn't been able to fully digest the last 'prank' pulled by Park and his gang. Kun had the aunts remove the red ink spilled on his History book and vowed that it wasn't necessary to retaliate in any way, but Ten wasn't convinced. Those boys had been terrorizing the triplets since day one with harsh words and cruel pranks. His siblings might be too soft-hearted to remember, but Ten had a folder in his memory for every time one of them had been ridiculed and crumpled down in tears because of it. He had cataloged all the jokes and mean actions, made sure not to forget, used it to fuel his energy towards magic and what really mattered.</p><p><i>If you harm none, do what you will.</i> Ten wasn't going to hurt anyone, it's against the principles of magic. Even if he was angry and fury coursed through his veins like lava, he wouldn't actually harm anyone. But he <i>could</i> protect himself and his brothers. </p><p>Magical conjuring meant spells, charms, curses and hexes. It meant being able to glamour Park's attention away from the three of them instead of landing a punch straight to his jaw like last time. That hadn't been fun, Ten got detention <i>and</i> came home to a long lecture from Aunt Hee.</p><p>"I'm not doing anything," he assured, holding Doyoung's gaze. "I just want to--"</p><p>"Understand how it works," Kun added.</p><p>"And be able to make use of it if the need ever arises," finished Doyoung.</p><p>They understood. The feeling of loving someone so much that you'd rather put yourself in the path of danger instead of letting anything happen to them. It was mutual.</p><p>A habit was made out of late-night secret meetings in the library until the aunts picked up on it, grounding them with a strict 'no magic' rule for two weeks. By the end of that period, the boys were so high strung that when Ten got into yet another fistfight with Park, Kun and Doyoung jumped in.</p><p>Something changed that day. The boys felt the shift swimming like ripples in the air the moment Aunt Sun barged into the principal’s office, clad in all-black silk, and one of her best hats on. None of them had ever seen one of the aunts that mad; for a while, they worried that her fury would set the whole office on fire. </p><p>Gladly, all she did was shout. </p><p>“When are you going to hold the other boys accountable?!” She demanded. “We are tired of purchasing new pens because theirs always mysteriously disappear every damn week! The last time someone decided it would be fun to prank my nephew with ink on his book, what punishment did the culprit receive?! I’m the one scrubbing blood stains from their uniforms and you want to suspend <i>them</i>?!”</p><p>And, the final blow:</p><p>“This is the last time. Do you hear me, principal? <b>Do not</b>. Make me. Come back.”</p><p>As Aunt Sun marched out of the room, Ten could see how pale Principal Kwan looked and wondered if the man spent the eight minutes she was in his office fearing for his life. </p><p>At home, the aunts sat them all on the couch after patching their scratched cheeks and purpling bruises and promised to properly induct them into magical conjuring.</p><p>Ten was the best at conjuring. After only a couple of months, he was already capable of simple glamouring and basic charms. It was enough to keep Park and his gang at bay as he intended.</p><p>With the passing of time, the atmosphere at Horse Head Street changed. Kun looked at university catalogs and Doyoung questioned the aunts about making money off their magic. It was time to figure out the rest of their lives.</p><p>All three of them were encouraged by the aunts to keep close to home; they were much stronger together than they'd ever be if separated. Doyoung was certain he'd end up working with magic like the aunts, selling powerful salves and potions, an occasional charm for good luck if the client was particularly kind. It took Kun a bit longer to decide what path to follow. Although he loved magic and would never stop practicing, there was an urge inside of him to seek something outside of what they knew. </p><p>Ten guessed he'd also keep close and work with the aunts; until the <i>dream</i>.</p><p>It wasn't unusual for them to dream about what's to come, to see possible futures in their sleep. The day before Doyoung fell off the old oak, Kun had a dream about a bunny falling off a tree. If only he'd succeeded at interpreting it he'd have spared his brother from a lot of pain and broken bones.</p><p>This dream of Ten's didn't need a lot of interpretation. It was him, dressed in an expensive-looking suit, hair perfectly combed and gelled back, a smug smile on his face as he sipped on the liquid inside a white, plain mug. Around him was what appeared to be an office. People worked in their cubicles and zipped past him carrying piles of documents and envelopes. Ten walked across the office towards a huge room with glass walls. Engraved on the door was his name. From the windows of his private office, he could see the city spreading out below him with hulking skyscrapers and modern buildings. To him, it was clear.</p><p>The aunts were strongly against his plans of moving to the city. They preached that their Family was tied to that house, that they were meant to stay together. None of it would have mattered either way. Ten had made his mind.</p><p>"Are you sure?" Kun asked quietly. They were sitting by the fireplace, a large blanket around their shoulders bringing them closer. "Being alone can be tough."</p><p>"I could stay," Ten answered. "I could stay and work with the aunts, maybe the three of us could build something of our own. Together. That sounds like a good alternative."</p><p>The silence stretched, and Doyoung pointed, "There's a 'but' in that sentence, isn't there?"</p><p>Sighing, Ten continued, "But. If I stay I'll never know what's out there for me. I love the house and I love the aunts." He exchanged looks with his brothers. "I love you too. But I feel... It would be nice to go further, you know? Not only into magic but... Into the world? There's so much out there for us to learn and see."</p><p>"We haven't even finished our apprenticeship yet," Doyoung said, eyes downcast, fingers worrying at his knees. The skin there was growing red and irritated, so Ten pulled his hand into his.</p><p>"We'll finish," he assured. "And then I'll go."</p><p>Kun took in a shaky breath. Ten held his hand as well.</p><p>"You don't have to leave in order to learn more about the world," said Kun. "Besides, where did that come from? You never even mentioned wanting to live in the city."</p><p>Ten had always been the one to believe magic bound them all together. To his brothers, the thought of him leaving was almost inconceivable. Even Ten himself didn't know how to explain the feeling in his heart. It was just... There; threatening to explode if he didn't do anything about it.</p><p>"I had a dream," he said as a means of explanation.</p><p>His brothers eyed him carefully, asking in unison, "What kind of dream?"</p><p>"The kind that makes you realize stuff."</p><p>Without Ten ever disclosing the details of his dream, Kun and Doyoung understood. A triplets thing, it seemed. It was how the other two knew when one of them needed support, or when one brewed extra tea out of sheer intuition that the other two would also want some. They were connected. Bound together by blood, and magic. There was nothing in the world that was powerful enough to sever that connection, Ten wouldn't allow it.</p><p>"Are you afraid?" Kun asked, leaning closer into Ten, his head falling onto Ten's shoulder.</p><p>"No," he answered without hesitating. "Are you?"</p><p>Doyoung circled Ten's arm with his, squeezing it gently before mimicking Kun's gesture and leaning his head on Ten. None of them said another word.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>☾</p>
</div>Children live in their own world. A word of advice will often lay ignored by their feet as they keep faithful to their own convictions and vision of the universe. Children are stubborn. Moonchildren are even worse; obstinate little creatures living their inconsequential little lives as if nothing in the world matters but themselves.<p>Ten leaves through the window, Kun holding the rope so he can go down the wall; Doyoung watching out for the aunts. It feels like treachery; like a sleeping potion dripped into soup and fed to an unassuming duo of experienced crafters. His heart tightens painfully as he gives his brothers one last look. <i>Come with me,</i> he wants to say. <i>Let’s go somewhere no one knows us. Where no one sneers at us.</i> That’d be selfishness speaking once again, and he hasn’t got any more room for that.</p><p>He cries during his long walk to the station, the ticket in his hand all crumpled up and moist from how hard he was squeezing it. After he hands it over to the bus driver and finds his seat, Ten cries some more. He weeps as the last night bus rides out of town, watching the tears carve tracks down his face through his reflection on the window.</p><p>This bus is just meant to take him to the next city, where he’ll catch another and then a train that will finally take him to the city. That’s the whole plan. Ten doesn’t know where to go from there, he hasn’t thought that far. It seems so easy to just stand up and run all the way back home, to the comfort of his bed and his siblings’ loving arms. The aunts would definitely forgive him if he begged them. It would be easy.</p><p>However, there’s a reason why Ten spent hours perfecting a sleep potion, getting rid of the acrid aftertaste and getting the consistency just right for the aunts’ soup. There’s a reason why that dream called out to him more than any other. Even though Ten doesn’t know for sure why he’s doing this, he knows it’s somewhere inside him tucked away from the overpowering thoughts of loss and regret. It’s out there, too. He just has to stop crying like a child and go after it. Now, a nap will do him good. </p><p>Wiping the tears from his face, Ten adjusts in his seat and forces his eyes closed. Hopefully, when he wakes up, he’ll be someone else entirely.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. interlude: waxing crescent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Keeper of what disappears,<br/>Hear me now -- open your ears,<br/>Find for me what I now seek,<br/>By Moon, Sun, Earth, Air, Fire and Sea.</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. first quarter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Do you remember me?” the other man asks, tilting his head. It makes his hair flop in a soft way. Ten wonders if he’s also using Doyoung’s hair products. “From school?”</p><p>Ten could deny, pretend that John’s presence back then was so insignificant that he wasn’t worthy of a spot in Ten’s memory. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re taller now.”</p><p>John bites over his lower lip, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “And you haven’t changed at all.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eleven years have gone by since Ten’s had curious glances thrown his way for all the wrong reasons. Turns out he ended up forgetting how it felt. Fortunately, his Family’s house is not that far from the train station, and even after eleven years, the roads and streets that cut open that godforsaken town are so deeply engraved in his memory that he’s able to power walk straight to Horse Head Street on pretty much autopilot.</p><p>It’s strange. Familiar, but not entirely. Even though he feels like a different person, walking down Horse Head Street makes Ten feel like he’s eight years old and overcome by grief. </p><p>The cats recognize him. There are only two of them left, fat and sluggish, purring as Ten scratches their heads. It feels welcoming. Once he pulls to his feet, his eyes settle on a figure standing in the porch, arms crossed and the stance of someone who hasn’t got much time to lose. It’s only been two years since Ten and Doyoung last saw each other, but somehow it feels like a whole lifetime has passed.</p><p>As a smile spreads on his lips, Ten walks towards his brother, a suitcase in a hand, his denim jacket in another.</p><p>“Look who dragged himself in,” Doyoung bites, smirking. “Like a cat.”</p><p>Ten halts, just shy of the last step to reach where Doyoung is. He winces. “Was that supposed to be funny? Doie, you know you’re not funny.”</p><p>For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then, Doyoung’s face melts, and he pulls Ten in. “Just. Get in here.”</p><p>Both his suitcase and jacket fall to the floor, completely forgotten. Ten is sure this feeling has been spoken of; the unique sense of connection, the ease that settles on his shoulders the minute Kun steps out the house, his hand ruffling Ten’s hair affectionately. Fulfillment. </p><p>He breathes in, feeling the presence of his siblings, letting the atmosphere of their Family home weave its way into his system. When Ten left this house eleven years ago he swore to not return, and even though the sentiment that steered his actions that night died down with time, he didn’t really think he’d ever come back. </p><p>“I’m so happy to see you,” Kun speaks into Ten’s hair. </p><p>“Me too,” Ten says, stepping away from the hug in order to really <i>look</i> at his brothers. Kun’s got dark circles, Doyoung’s hair looks thin and frail. Neither of them look like they’ve showered recently. Last time they met, they were in the city hopping from bar to bar, giving Ten the most fun he’d had in days and both of them looked great. Doyoung wouldn’t shut up about his upcoming store and all the different recipes for skin care products he’d been trying. Kun had been excited about this idea for a book revolving around a high school teacher with special powers. They were fine.</p><p>Now they look like the roof has fallen on top of their heads when the floor hadn’t been holding their weight to begin with. Ten’s heart aches.</p><p>Then again, is Ten feeling any better? For weeks he’s been struggling with getting up in the morning, fixing up instant noodles for dinner instead of the well-balanced meals he was used to, spending weekends in his bed, avoiding any sort of social gathering. Something doesn’t feel right; it hasn’t been right for a while and only now, as he locks eyes with his brothers, he understands what the aunts meant about being stronger together.</p><p>The thought travels between them, each doing their best to not let it overflow through their eyes in the middle of the porch, when Kun heaves a long sigh.</p><p>“Come in, we just made some tea.”</p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>1</b>
    <br/>
    <i>Bring Ten home.</i>
  </p>
</div>Not everything about the house looks the same as Ten remembers. The draperies have changed, as have the cushions on the window seats. In the kitchen, the island has been switched by a white picnic table, a huge crystal as a centerpiece quietly charging as the last of the rays of light shine on it. <p>Around the crystal, a representation of all four elements pull energy in: a bowl with soil, a glass of water, incense burning on one side, a blunt candle on the other. Ten recognizes the crystal as a natural obsidian. He knows it assists the release of resentment and disharmony, Doyoung having used it every single time Ten got into a fight. Quite telling that this is the crystal they’ve chosen as their centerpiece.</p><p>More crystals sit by the windowsill above the sink, smaller containers with soil and water between each one. </p><p>It’s interesting to note that there are plants <i>everywhere</i>. On the counters, the very bench Ten chose to sit by the table, atop the fridge. Thyme, lavender, basil, aloe; even mugwort and wolfsbane. Ten remembers that the aunts kept most of their plants in the conservatory, he wonders if it’s too full now that Kun is also growing his own seeds.</p><p>Despite the changes, the house is still cozy. It brings up warm feelings, fills Ten’s lungs with an especially clear kind of air he wouldn’t be able to breathe anywhere else but home.</p><p>Kun pushes a cracked, rustic-looking mug into Ten’s hands as Doyoung slides a piece of paper on the table.</p><p>“Here’s the list,” his brother says, sitting on his right side. Kun takes the left. “You’ll see many items don’t make a drop of sense.”</p><p>Ten sips on the tea, relishing in the nostalgia the flavor brings. The aunts grow their own leaves, frying and fermenting them in their own special way. Ten wouldn’t be able to describe how it tastes. It just tastes… Right.</p><p>He lowers his eyes, taking in the list presented in front of him and is immediately sure of one thing.</p><p>“It’s aunt Hee’s handwriting.”</p><p>“We ran a recognition spell on the paper, but found no trace of coercion. No glamours or charms.” Kun runs a hand through his tired-looking face.</p><p>Doyoung finishes, “The only thing we could figure out was that aunt Sun was around when she wrote this.”</p><p>“So whatever they’re doing, they’re together,” Ten concludes, exchanging a look with his brothers.</p><p>Doyoung nods, a yawn stretching his mouth open. He looks exhausted. Squeezing his arm, Ten asks, “Have you slept ever since?”</p><p>“None of us have,” Doyoung answers, resting his forearms on the table. “Kun’s favorite sage plant died yesterday.”</p><p>Gasping, Ten turns to Kun, who’s looking particularly mournful now. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Kun nods. “I tried the crystals, chanting, and spells. Even potions. Nothing worked. She just died.” Ten leans onto him, propping his chin on Kun’s shoulder. “I don’t know, Ten, I feel… It feels like something is at work here. The aunts wouldn’t just go for an impromptu trip.”</p><p>Ten knows; that’s why the whole situation is even weirder. They may act reckless and daring at times, but the aunts wouldn’t just up and leave like that. In the least, they’d explain the details in a note. Instead, they left a list of items that should be completed before they’re back <i>without</i> specifying when they’ll be back or where they’re headed. It’s all very mysterious and clouded, and not the aunts’ style at all. </p><p>The two women made sure to let the three of them know exactly how their life was gonna look like from the moment they crossed the front gate of this house. Ten, Kun, and Doyoung were newly-orphaned eight year olds and the aunts left nothing to imagination. </p><p><i>‘We are not here to lie to you and pretend it’s going to be easy. It’s not going to be easy,’</i> they’d said. <i>‘Don’t be afraid. Don’t cower if someone shouts your name in anger or toss nasty things at your back. You’re strong enough to handle this.’</i></p><p>Their parents have always tip-toed around the subject of magic, claiming that they hadn’t reached an appropriate age for apprenticeship, ignoring their most ardent pleas. Later on, Ten understood that they’d been shielded. That shield went down the day they moved into the Family house.</p><p><i>‘Whatever names and labels they push upon any of you? Carry them with pride,’</i> aunt Hee used to say.</p><p><i>‘It means they’ve acknowledged your strength,’</i> aunt Sun added.</p><p><i>Together, you are stronger.</i> Always together. </p><p>Shaking his head, Ten holds the list, bringing it for closer inspection. Kun is right, they wouldn’t just leave without saying anything.</p><p>“Tell me what happened again,” he requests, reading item per item, noticing every spot of smudged ink on the page.</p><p>“We woke up,” Doyoung recites placidly. “Noticed the kettle wasn’t on, which is odd in itself because--”</p><p>“The kettle is always on when we wake up,” Ten completes, memories of uncountable mornings waking up to the pleasant smell of freshly baked goods and sweet hot tea flooding his mind.</p><p>Sighing, Kun continues, “The broom they left behind the kitchen door was on the floor.”</p><p>Ten frowns, turning to look at him. “A visitor?”</p><p>“That’s what we thought, but no one came by,” Doyoung says.</p><p>Strange. A broom that’s kept behind a door falling to the ground always means that a visitor is stopping by.</p><p>“When it grew dark and they didn’t return, we started taking the list a little more seriously,” Kun continues, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the list. “At first we just thought it was funny they’d mentioned you, but then we started wondering.”</p><p>The first in the ten-items list the aunts supposedly left before escaping into the sunset is, neatly written in black ink:</p><p>Bring Ten home.</p><p>He knows deep down the aunts resent him for leaving. They speak on the phone a couple of times a year and Ten always sends them apples and berries for Samhain. Once he even sent them flowers for Litha! They’ve been on good terms, though Ten can hear it in their tone how much he’s missed at home whenever they speak. It will always be, he’s afraid, an open wound. </p><p>“That’s when we thought that maybe they might have wanted us to be together because something is going to happen and we’ll need to, I don’t know, form a circle or something,” Kun mumbles. Words are just exiting his mouth at this point, exhaustion clearly running him ragged.</p><p>“They might be playing us,” Doyoung says. “This could be another attempt at bringing you home. Creating this… Puzzle so we’ll be stuck solving it together. I don’t know. It’s… Really confusing.”</p><p>It wouldn’t be the first time if it were an attempt at dragging Ten’s ass back into the Family house. He remembers Kun and Doyoung retellings of several rituals and circles with the intent of moving Ten’s will. None of them had a mere tickle of an influence on him.</p><p>Taking one last look at the list, he lowers it down to the table and picks up his mug. The tea is still hot, still tasty. What they know right now is that the aunts are gone and the three of them have a whole bunch of house chores and other stuff to do. The first of which, Ten thinks, should be putting Kun and Doyoung to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them obeys without a fuss. Doyoung insists that he can’t afford to fall asleep when there are jars and more jars of lotion to be filled, whereas Kun refuses to let Ten roam around the house retracing the aunts’ last steps on his own. They fall into a loop of an argument in which Ten defends his ability of handling a couple of trace spells on his own as Kun retorts that Ten hasn’t practiced magic in a bit. </p><p>That’s not entirely true. Despite being away from their small Family coven, Ten carried on with their traditions in his own place. Sure, his apartment in the city wasn’t built on sacred land, nor was inhabited by their powerful ancestors, brimming with the magic from their spirits. It’s just a regular unit, but Ten worked hard to make it cozy and energy receptive. Although he didn’t have the same array of grimoires and tomes his siblings had at home since all he cared to bring with him when he fled was his own journal, Ten made sure to build an altar and procure a source to obtain ingredients whenever he needed them. The witch he met lived an hour away by train and was positively terrifying, but took an instant liking to him when Ten confessed to learning magical conjuring. </p><p>Leaving home wasn’t supposed to cease his practice, he never intended to give up magic. On the contrary; it helped him keep close to his roots, even if the other two thirds of his being were miles and miles away. Ten kept his calendar updated for all the important dates and celebrations and never missed a single one. Be it alone or with Terrifying Joohyun and her other coven witches, Ten kept the magic inside him very well-balanced. </p><p>After he manhandles his brothers into bed (they each have their own rooms now, the attic having been cleared for Kun), Ten grabs extra linens and a thick comforter from the closet in Doyoung’s room and properly sets the extra mattress left on the floor for him. He unpacks into the drawers his brother cleared out and takes a steaming hot shower. </p><p>The body and hair care products in the bathroom are all homemade with Doyoung’s own recipes. Ten inwardly cheers; the last batch they sent him ran out months ago and nothing feels better on the skin than Doyoung’s products.</p><p>When he’s done fixing dinner, someone knocks on the door.</p><p>Ten wipes his hands on the tea-cloth and jogs to the front-door. He pushes aside the curtain covering the glass panes, frowning as he sees the blurry figure of a tall man behind the frosted window. Not many people were brave enough to venture past the front gate when Ten used to live here. Curious, he opens the door.</p><p>“Oh,” says the man on the other side. His eyebrows arch as he takes Ten in, then knit together. “I’m here for Doyoung?”</p><p>Dressed in a bright-ass yellow sweater and jeans, this man looks like someone Ten used to know. His hair is a caramel brown shade, not long enough to be tucked behind his ears, but sufficiently lengthy to glamorously rustle whenever he moves his head. He certainly didn’t look like that in school. </p><p>Most of the memories Ten has of John Suh aren’t adorned with the best feelings he’s ever had. He was friends with Park for a good chunk of middle school; the same Park who spilled red ink on Kun’s books and cowardly shaved a side of Doyoung’s hair as he napped before a club meeting. It was people like Park and his boys that made it all so hard for Ten and his siblings. Like them there were dozens; younger, older, always ready to shake fists and point fingers whenever the triplets or the aunts walked into their fields of vision.</p><p>Jutting his chin out, Ten puts on a scowl, folding his arms on his chest.</p><p>“What do you want with Doyoung?” He asks, a bit rudely. Honestly, he doesn’t care if he sounds rude. He’s not about to let this guy anywhere near Doyoung.</p><p>For some reason, John Suh smiles. He looks at Ten as if there’s something amusing about him. That’s not what Ten was going for, he wanted <i>intimidating</i>!</p><p>“Uh,” the other one mumbles, then <i>chuckles</i>. “I’m Johnny. His partner at the store.” He stops, squints. “You’re Ten, right? The third one?”</p><p>The third one is actually correct, since Ten was born after both Kun and Doyoung. He doesn’t dignify John Suh’s remark with an answer, merely blinking at him. Damn, was he always this tall?</p><p>“Doyoung is asleep,” Ten says. “Probably won’t be up till the morning.”</p><p>John’s eyes lower to where Ten’s hand is gripping at the doorknob, and says, “That’s okay, I just need to get the stuff he left in the conservatory.” When Ten doesn’t move to grant him passage, John adds, “Or you could get it for me? The small jars by the counter, he’ll have left them in a crate.”</p><p>The way he talks makes Ten believe he’s familiar with the house; like he’s been to the conservatory countless times and actually knows his way around it. <i>Doyoung’s partner?</i> Ten recalls being told about a person who’d invested in Doyoung’s idea, but he honestly envisioned a nice old lady who didn’t mind associating with outcasts. Why would Doyoung willingly start up a business with John Suh, anyways? Is his memory that short?</p><p>“It’ll only take a moment, I promise,” John reassures. “We need to restock before opening tomorrow morning and people have been asking for the eye cream for days now, they’re crazy about Doyoung’s recipe.”</p><p><i>Of course they are,</i> Ten thinks. It brings him great satisfaction knowing that the same people who twisted their mouths at them are now devoted to Doyoung’s products.</p><p>Ten eyes John Suh one last time, arching a single eyebrow at the pleading look on his face. The man is clearly waiting for Ten’s permission. He said they need to restock before opening. There isn’t a threatening aura around John, he doesn’t mean Ten or another inhabitant of their house any harm.</p><p>With a sigh, Ten acquiesces. “I’ll get the thing for you.” He gives John a stern once-over. “Wait here.” And spins on his heels.</p><p>Sure enough, there’s a crate filled with small jars in the conservatory. All over the counter there are jars and pots and large bars of soap. Now the plants in the kitchen make a lot of sense. This room looks a lot more cluttered than Ten remembers; there are herbs, and plants, and flower pots, and ingredients that didn’t fit into the cabinets scattered around. Vines grow around the windows, stretching to glass roofings and it all feels like some sort of jungle in the middle of their house. </p><p>Ten grabs the crate and walks out. John smiles at his return, reaching out for the box Ten passes him. “Thanks,” he says. Instead of going away, John lingers by the door, adjusting the weight of the crate in his hands and eyeing Ten as if he’s deciding what to say next. “When did you get back?”</p><p>“This afternoon,” Ten says, hoping that his tone will convey the finality he wishes upon this conversation. “If that was all, I--”</p><p>“Do you remember me?” the other man asks, tilting his head. It makes his hair flop in a soft way. Ten wonders if he’s also using Doyoung’s hair products. “From school?”</p><p>Ten could deny, pretend that John’s presence back then was so insignificant that he wasn’t worthy of a spot in Ten’s memory. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re taller now.”</p><p>John bites over his lower lip, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “And you haven’t changed at all.”</p><p>Warmth crawls up the line of Ten’s nape, and he clears his throat, scratching at his neck. He’s once again ready to send John Suh on his way when the other man says:</p><p>“Thanks for putting them to sleep, by the way. They were both running on coffee and whatever else they can stir up in a cauldron.” And then he laughs. </p><p>Why is this man talking to him as if they’re close friends? And <i>why</i> is Ten indulging him? </p><p>“It’s good you’re here,” John continues. “They keep saying that you’re stronger together and maybe that’s why the aunts wanted you home for this.”</p><p>What? </p><p>Why is he privy to the details of what’s currently going on? If Ten’s memory is not failing him, John isn’t part of a Family nor affiliated to any coven. He’s not a witch, nor an alchemist.</p><p>Putting the scowl back on his face, Ten says, “You got your stuff, right? I need to finish dinner. Have a good night.” As he closes the door, Ten catches a glimpse of the surprised look on John’s face.</p><p>Ten stands behind the closed door until he listens to John’s footsteps going down the porch. It seems like his brothers are friendly enough with this guy to divulge important information concerning their Family dynamics. Ten doesn’t know how he feels about that. On one hand, he’s glad Doyoung and Kun were able to find companionship in a town who was so hellbent on refusing anything coming from them. However, what limits are they imposing into this relationship? Does John Suh know about <i>everything</i>? His phrasing suggested that he knows more than Ten deems safe to share.</p><p>He sits in the kitchen to eat by himself, going over the aunts’ list one more time.</p><p>1. Bring Ten home.<br/>2. Feed the cats.<br/>3. Brew food for the garden (attention to the wisteria!)<br/>4. Form a circle of protection around the house.<br/>5. Exorcise Jeff, the ghost in the basement. He’s been in there too long.<br/>6. Bake twelve pies.<br/>7. Take care of Mrs. Kim.<br/>8. The sparrow is coming, watch out for it.<br/>9. Polishing spells need to be reinforced.<br/>10. Update family journal!!!!!!</p><p>It’s a wild mix between ordinary chores and ominous warnings, such as the eighth item. If a sparrow comes into one’s house and circles around three times, it always means trouble. That would imply that sometime in the next couple of weeks, maybe days, they’ll have to face a problem. That makes him question: are the aunts aware that something wicked is coming? Did they leave out of fear? Is that a mighty and unbeatable threat? What’s up with the twelve pies? Who the hell is Mrs. Kim?</p><p>Something is out of order. Ten has the feeling that whatever it is, it might be too much for the three of them to handle on their own.</p><div class="center">
  <p>☾</p>
</div>Mornings in the house used to be filled with brightness and life, the smell of breakfast wafting throughout the kitchen, the music coming from the aunts’ faulty radio as they roamed around the house on their usual morning preparations and rituals. The energy around was always good and well-balanced, nudging each of them on the right path to a great day.<p>This morning, Ten is up before Doyoung, who snores on his bed as if he hasn’t slept in years. Ten is sure he feels that way. He makes his bed and changes out of his pajamas, heading downstairs as soon as he brushes his teeth. On his way to the kitchen, Ten notices that all drapes and curtains are still blinding the windows, which makes him think that Kun is still asleep. He pushes aside most of the draperies in the living room, moving to the kitchen in order to put the kettle on and assess the ingredients he can use for breakfast. He remembers to have seen some eggs and bread when he made dinner last night, so he could work with that.</p><p>When he steps foot inside the kitchen, Ten’s heart drops to the floor.</p><p>It’s all dark, and the figure sitting by the table has a layer of fabric around their shoulders. The only reassurance that Ten is not dealing with a restless spirit comes from the laptop open on the table.</p><p>Kun turns around to look at him. “Morning.”</p><p>Ten groans, stomping around as he lets light into the room by moving the curtains. “You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing in the dark?”</p><p>Kun’s hand comes up to shield his eyes from the rays of light and he recoils, quite like a vampire. “Been up for a while, didn’t realize the sun was up.”</p><p>Pausing in front of the fridge, Ten turns around to face his brother. “You couldn’t sleep?”</p><p>“No, no, I could,” Kun explains, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “I slept better than I do most days, actually.” He sighs, glancing at his laptop before lifting his eyes to meet Ten’s. “I have a deadline coming up and I thought, since you’re around and things are… I don’t know, whole again,” he rolls his eyes, as if that thought even crossing his head makes him feel stupid. “I thought I’d be able to write some, but. I was wrong.”</p><p>Ten watches as Kun’s eyes wander about the laptop screen and he presses a few keys. Then, letting out a resigned exhale, slams the laptop closed and lets his head fall on top of it. </p><p>Whenever Ten phones his siblings, they spend hours talking about work and all the experiments they do with magic. It’s always light-hearted conversation; Ten never had a reason to believe any of them would be struggling. He should have paid closer attention, he should have <i>listened</i> while they talked. </p><p>Circling the table, Ten removes the blanket from Kun’s shoulders, folding it neatly and placing it next to his laptop. He takes a seat next to Kun, and wraps an arm around his bent shoulders, gently leaning his head on Kun’s arm.</p><p>“I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long,” he says. There’s nothing else he could say, nothing would better put his feelings into words.</p><p>Kun’s body moves as he breathes, and it’s soothing. He says, “None of it is your fault.”</p><p>The truth is: they don’t know that for sure. Eleven years ago, Ten ignored their aunts conviction and fled in the dead of night. Who’s to say he’s not at fault for what’s transpiring now? <i>You’re stronger together</i>, they wouldn’t stop saying. Ten defied that either way.</p><p>“Hey,” Kun rises, hand coming to rest on the back of Ten’s neck. “I can literally hear your thoughts. Stop them.”</p><p>That has Ten snorting and playfully nudging at Kun’s side. “Yeah, that’s how it works.”</p><p>They smile at each other. Kun never said anything was wrong. He never questions how Ten knows. There was never any need for questioning between them.</p><p>Ten presses a kiss on Kun's shoulder and springs up. "What do you usually have for breakfast?"</p><p>"Lately? Tea."</p><p>He could ask why Kun hasn't been eating properly, why Ten had to toss away a box of expired milk yesterday and why most of their fruits are moldy. Instead, Ten roams around the kitchen making food that'll be shoved down his brothers' throats even if it's his last act on this earth. Funny, he doesn't think he'd be able to take care of himself the same way. Once he was able to stack about ten boxes of pizza outside his apartment before the garbage was collected.</p><p>"Did anyone stop by yesterday after we went to bed?" Kun asks after Ten places a mug of steaming hot tea in front of him.</p><p>John Suh's face flashes on his mind, and Ten goes back to buttering toast. He says, "Yep. Someone who works with Doyoung."</p><p>"You mean Johnny?"</p><p>"He knew a whole lot about a bunch of stuff," Ten aggressively collects more butter onto the knife before swiveling to face Kun. "Stuff he wasn't supposed to know."</p><p>His brother lowers the mug, a frown on his face. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>"He knew about the aunts' list and... He mentioned a <i>cauldron</i>? What have you been telling this guy about, Kun? Wasn't he friends with Park when we were kids?"</p><p>Kun looks taken aback. He shakes his head. "What even...? Johnny's our friend."</p><p>Grabbing the slice of bread he abandoned on the dish, Ten spreads butter on it. "I can't imagine why you'd want to be friends with him."</p><p>"You don't even know him."</p><p>Ten takes a deep breath, putting two slices of bread in the toaster and moving to scramble some motherfucking eggs. "I know him alright. You should too."</p><p>"No, you don't," Kun insists. "Things have changed around here."</p><p>Now, that sentence makes Ten reel in. Something ugly creeps up inside him, clawing at his throat. Ten swallows it back down, blinking at Kun. He asks, "What do you mean? They don't throw stones at your back no more?"</p><p>Kun snorts, lowering his head. The typical 'I give up' sign. "No, they don't."</p><p>It's stupid, but it bothers Ten. Why is that? Is he jealous? Voice dripping with sarcasm, he asks, "When did they start loving you? Was it after I left?"</p><p>Silence fills the space between them until the butter starts sizzling in the pan. Ten cracks a few eggs in there.</p><p>"Sometime after that, I don't know," Kun answers. "They don't love us, it's just... Things just changed."</p><p>Heavy footsteps can be heard from the staircase, and soon enough the fizzled figure of Doyoung is making its way into the kitchen. He grunts as he falls on the bench next to Kun, drinking from Kun's mug.</p><p>"Why the fuck are you arguing?" He asks, voice rough with sleep. "Goddess, I feel like I slept a hundred years."</p><p>Ten stirs the eggs. Kun says, "Johnny came by last night."</p><p>"Yeah? Did he get the crate?" Doyoung turns to Ten. "It was in the conservatory."</p><p>"He got it," Ten says absently, transferring the eggs to a plate once they're done cooking. He brings it to the table along with the toast and gets three more plates and forks from the cabinets.</p><p>"This smells good," Kun comments before digging into the food.</p><p>They eat in silence for a while, basking in the sunlight that filters in through the windows. The obsidian on the table thrums quietly, its energy drifting around them, almost tangible. Ten feels it like a blanket of peace over his shoulders. He closes his eyes for a second, breathes in deep. It's okay. They're not kids anymore, he doesn't have to sit and watch as his brothers are pushed around and beat down like sacks of rice. They don't need him to punch anyone or curse chickenpox and measles on the perpetrators. It's alright. It's a good thing.</p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>2</b>
    <br/>
    <i>Feed the cats.</i>
  </p>
</div>Ten ends up going to Doyoung's store in his place. He was feeling under the weather when he came down for breakfast and couldn’t bring himself to change out of his pajamas. Ten, moved by an unexpected urge to be helpful, volunteered to go in his stead. Before he leaves, he manages to complete item number two from the aunts’ list: Feed the cats. He opens three cans of cat food and pours them on the dishes on the patio. Both cats come running from the garden, meowing at Ten’s feet.<p>Doyoung’s store sits where an old ice cream parlor used to be. It’s a charming little place, wooden front stained white, a medium-sized sign reading ‘Sparkling Lotions and Hair Products’. The french windows and doors add to the whole atmosphere of the place, granting passerbys a clear view of the shelves and products inside. The door bell jingles in Ten’s wake, and the man behind the counter looks up at him.</p><p>John Suh’s presence in the store was expected by Ten, but the opposite cannot be true with the way John’s eyes widen as Ten walks in.</p><p>“Hey!” He chirps, pushing up the sleeves of his pale pink sweater. John shakes hair out of his eyes and smiles at Ten. “Good morning!”</p><p>Looking around the place, Ten responds, “Morning.” He can see the products he used in the shower yesterday on display, as well as the soap bars Ten saw resting in the conservatory. There’s so much in the store, a mix of smells and senses coming from every corner. If Ten were a regular customer, he wouldn’t be satisfied with a single purchase. </p><p>“Doyoung is not around,” John says from the counter. “In fact, I was about to call him.”</p><p>Ten inspects a jar labeled ‘fine exfoliator, rosemary and vanilla’. “Doyoung wasn’t feeling well,” he places the jar on a random shelf and leans over the counter, both arms on top. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll work with you.”</p><p>John watches him as if deciding if Ten means what he said, if it’s a joke. Then, he frowns. “Is he okay?”</p><p>“Just tired,” Ten shrugs, eyes never leaving John’s. They’re a soft shade of brown, John Suh’s eyes. Ten doesn’t remember them being like that in school because he never bothered to look into John’s eyes. If he had, maybe he’d find his gaze being met without a moment of hesitation. There’s something about them, a captivating element that grips Ten’s attention, tugs at his interest and makes him want <i>more</i>. Such pretty eyes are not easy to find, he guesses.</p><p>Shaking himself out of his trance, Ten says, “So, John, what can I help with?”</p><p>“Johnny.”</p><p>Ten blinks at him. “Sorry?”</p><p>“Call me Johnny,” the man behind the counter says, fingers combing through his hair as if there’s a lot more to that gesture. </p><p>
  <i>He’s gorgeous,<i> Ten realizes. <i>And he knows how to use it.</i></i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Stepping back from the counter, Ten folds his arms on his chest. He’s suddenly aware of the contrast between the two of them. John is all caramel pink with his fluffy sweater and soft hair whereas Ten’s dark hair hasn’t seen a trim in weeks and the faded jeans, black combat boots and long brown coat combo make him look even more of an outsider in this place than he’s used to. It doesn’t even matter that this is Doyoung’s store, as he stands in front of John Suh, Ten feels extremely improper.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Which is probably what makes him blurt, “I don’t like you.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It should be funny to watch John’s jaw drop and his eyes tighten into slits. Yet, Ten feels apprehensive, like he wants something out whatever is going on in this shop.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Um,” John chuckles awkwardly, pretending like he’s massaging his heart. “Ouch. Haha. Um… I’m sorry? Did I do anything that offended you?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The worst thing about that question is that Ten can’t simply answer with a round ‘yes’. John hasn’t really done anything to offend him, he was very courteous and polite last night. The offense lies in the way his eyes will roam all over Ten like an assessment. John Suh looks at people like someone who’s got an opinion about them. Well, that’s just his luck. Ten’s got a heavy hand for assholes who think they know more than they actually do.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You were friends with Park,” Ten says in lieu of an answer to the question. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>John looks even more out of the loop than before. “Park? What…?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“In school,” Ten says, refusing to let his resolve break. “Those dumbasses who got me and my brothers suspended. Among other things.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Oh, that Park. Our moms were friends, we weren’t really.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Ten almost laughs. He sounds venomous when he says, “So that’s why you were always hanging around him and never raised a finger whenever he would pull a ‘prank’ on us?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>That certainly has John pulling back. Comfort drains from his face, his eyes lowering. <i>That’s right.</i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You never looked like you needed any help,” John says eventually, voice low and thin.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Ten takes a step forward, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat. Just so he’s not tempted to throw them at the man across from him. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“So you just stood and watched?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There’s shame in John’s face, clear as a summer sky. He nods almost imperceptibly, scratching his nose. “I’m sorry. This is something that always comes up whenever we talk about school and I’m always full of regret.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“We?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Yeah, everyone,” he says. “Our friends.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He must mean the people who hang out with Kun and Doyoung. Ten thought a bunch about it on his way over from the house, and he reached the conclusion that his siblings have made friends. Such a concept was very limited for them in the past -- friendship has always meant each other the same way Family did. Still, there wasn’t a single rule preventing them from growing out of it. From everyone else growing out of it.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It just makes him curious to know what changed, what was the big shift, what happened to make everyone realize they’d been douches the entire time. Ten wishes he’d been told about it, although he can sort of guess why they didn’t.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>What a silly thing to feel this way.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Shaking out of his coat, Ten places it on the counter and meets John’s eyes once more. “What can I do to help around?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>For a bit he arranges products on shelves and furtively tries them onto his skin when John isn’t looking. A couple of people come in, happy and boisterous about finally getting their hands on some eye cream or a hair conditioner. Most of them ignore Ten’s presence altogether, but some stare. Ten can see recognition in their eyes, a flash of the past right there when they look at him. One of these customers is a middle-aged woman wearing a yellow raincoat. Ten remembers her as the florist across the street from the stop they stood at every morning to catch the school bus. She was the only local Ten recalls ever bothering to greet him and his siblings.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>She notices Ten on her way out. “Oh my, look at you,” she says, the brown stamped bag containing her precious eye cream in hand. “You look even more beautiful than you used to be.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It’s not the comment that upsets Ten, it’s the prospect of blushing in John Suh’s presence for the second time since they met.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Thank you. How have you been?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“You know. Just the same. Welcome home, darling.” She winks at him, the sort of confidence in her steps that prevents anyone from questioning her choice of coming out in a raincoat when it’s not actually raining.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>As the day goes by, Ten replies to a couple of texts from Kun saying that Doyoung napped throughout the morning and asking if Ten could pick up some groceries on his way back. Things get pretty quiet at the store after lunch time, so John pulls out a book and reads at the counter. Ten moves a couple of jars from a stool they use as a display and sits near him. He could sit anywhere else, it’s just that he can lean onto the counter.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Once he’s bored of watching the single butterfly that flies into the shop and wanders about cutely, Ten diverts his attention to John’s book. He can’t properly read what’s written on the pages, but he makes a past-time of guessing. That is until John realizes what he’s doing.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Wanna read?” He asks, startling Ten nearly off the stool. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Adjusting in his seat, Ten shakes his head. “No.” He checks the clock on the wall. “When can I go home?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Whenever you want,” John also glances at the clock. “If you’re willing to wait fifteen minutes, I can drive you home.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Not walking all the way back to Horse Head Street sounds good. Sharing a tight space with John Suh for about eight minutes doesn’t.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“It’s okay, John, I also need to pick up some groceries.” Ten stands up, heads to the coat rack.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Johnny. Please, Ten,” comes the whine. He turns around mid-walk, something in his stomach fluttering just like the butterfly still going around the store. “Call me Johnny. Nobody calls me John around here.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Fine, Johnny,” Ten cedes, quickly wearing his coat and waving with his back turned so John -- <i>Johnny</i> -- won’t see his pink cheeks.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He grabs the groceries Kun asked for and walks back home, but they all feel like tasks done on auto-pilot. In his mind, Johnny’s voice echoes <i>‘Please, Ten’</i> over and over.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>3</b>
    <br/>
    <i>Brew food for the garden (attention to the wisteria!)</i>
  </p>
</div>According to aunt Hee, the wisteria has always been there, taking over one side of the house as if it belonged to it. She didn’t remember ever tending to the plant, it just grew like an independent force. It was the first thing Ten noticed about the house when they first visited with their parents. The tiny flowers had always been the prettiest to him; he’d ask for one of the adults to help him cut tiny branches to decorate their room and weave them together in flower crowns. They looked the best in his mom’s hair.<p>The wisteria, just like aunt Hee used to say, felt like an unstoppable force. Which is why Ten cannot understand why it’s sick.</p><p>The vines and branches clinging to the columns and balusters in the porch look pitiful with their wilting flowers and drying leaves. The parts of it that are higher up the frame of the house seem fine. It’s the ones closer to the ground that suffer.</p><p>“Is it something with the soil?” Ten inquires, leaning over the balustrade so he can watch Kun. “Maybe it’s poisoned.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Kun says. He’s crouching by the roots, hands digging into the earth. “It feels different than the last time I checked.”</p><p>“How did the aunts know it’d be sick?” Doyoung ponders, pacing around the porch. The list is still in his hands, crumpled and beaten down from yet another round of speculations. “<i>Attention to the wisteria</i> they said! It’s in here!”</p><p>“Doyoung, calm down.”</p><p>“They might have noticed it’d been losing strength before they left.”</p><p>Doyoung halts, marching to where Ten is standing so he can glare at both Ten and Kun. “It’s weird!”</p><p>Ten snorts, “We got a lot of that going on around here, brother.”</p><p>Inhaling as if he’s about to make a very important decision, Doyoung announces, “I think we should keep doing the trace spells. Something doesn’t feel right about this.”</p><p>There’s merit in Doyoung’s thoughts. The wisteria has never gotten sick before, it’s too much of a coincidence that it chooses to wilt when the aunts go missing. Their energy might be entwined with the aunts’, but what base has that claim? Doyoung and Kun are also residents of the house and they haven’t gone anywhere.</p><p>“Panic is not going to help us,” Ten says, stepping closer to Doyoung so he can wrap both arms around his torso. Doyoung sighs, but leans into the embrace. “Let’s brew that potion. That ought to take your mind off things for a bit.”</p><p>Ten helps by grabbing all the ingredients Doyoung needs from the conservatory, watching in awe as his brother moves seamlessly around the kitchen, slicing up roots and measuring oils. Mindful enough to light up candles and incenses as the potion brews, Doyoung showcases true mastery of his art, using his fingers to pinch at mayfly powder and knowing precisely how much should go in the cauldron. This is a potion that, supposedly, stinks up an entire room and needs whole bunches of herbs and flowers burning to get rid of such a smell. At least that’s what the grimoire Ten has spread on the table says. It’s an old thing, definitely in the Family for generations, but it’s Doyoung’s handwriting on the margins and between sentences.</p><p>It’s impossible for Ten not to think of his own practice. He’s done the utmost to remain active and adequate, yet, the small corner Ten built for himself in the city cannot be compared to doing magic in sacred land, surrounded by the energy of their ancestors. Besides, Ten had goals that differed from magic. He went to school and interned at a firm before being properly hired, and even after that he poured a lot of his energy into work projects and other activities such as going to the gym. At times, he felt guilty about forgoing his practice. Being around Terrifying Joohyun and her coven helped, but he never really felt like he was working on his craft. Yes, eleven years felt like enough for Ten to improve and learn new things about magic and his own abilities. </p><p>Still.</p><p>Watching Doyoung brew a complex potion like he’s done it so many times he’s now capable of brewing in his sleep has something heavy and viscous settling in the pit of Ten’s stomach. </p><p>It feels like half of those years went straight into Ten’s tiny kitchen garbage bin.</p><p>Once the potion is done, Doyoung pours it into a smaller cast iron pot and brings it outside, Ten on his heels. Kun is still there, sitting by the roots of the wisteria, dirt smudged on his cheeks and the same worried look that he wore earlier. He stands once Doyoung and Ten make their way down the steps, cleaning his hands on his dirty jeans.</p><p>“Is that the elixir?” He questions, peering into the pot.</p><p>Doyoung shakes his head. “Poultice. It’s for healing, but I don’t think there’s enough for the entire garden.”</p><p>“We can just use the elixir for the other plants,” Kun says, stepping away from the wisteria. “This is the only one in bad condition.”</p><p>When Doyoung pours down the potion, smoke rises from the soil in a hiss. There’s no apparent change to the roots; the earth looks wet and smooth, but that’s the extent of it. Kun kneels down, gently running his fingers on the soil, letting them dig in a bit closer to the roots. The tension in his brows eases up, and he lets out a long sigh.</p><p>“It’ll take a while, but I think she’ll be okay,” he says, pulling himself up and facing Doyoung. “Is there any elixir left?”</p><p>“Upper cabinets,” is the answer. “I’ll grab it.”</p><p>Doyoung jogs upstairs while Kun walks around the garden. Ten takes a seat at the steps for a moment, watching as his brothers sprinkle elixir on the plants. There’s a routine quality to their movements, the way they interact with the elements in the house. Between the two of them, Kun and Doyoung manage to cover all the garden plus the potted plants around the foundation of the house. Ten could offer them a hand, but that whole process felt so natural to them he didn’t feel… Needed. </p><p>Besides, turning the garden and tending to the greenery had never been one of his tasks when he still lived home. Albeit he might have a clue of what to do if he were to help with the plants, this feels different from his small companions back at the apartment.</p><p>Under the excuse of putting the kettle on, Ten hauls his ass back inside. They’re almost running out of tea, which brings him some kind of excitement. He learned how to toast and ferment tea leaves before his move, although his never turned out as good as the aunts’. Ten brews enough for about four cups, peeking into the tin and noting that they’ll only have enough for one more round. He adds ‘more tea’ to his mental list of chores. That reminds him.</p><p>The aunts’ list still lies on the table, exactly where Doyoung tossed it earlier. Ten crosses item number three with the pen they keep attached to the fridge door, then sticks the list there too. </p><p>He’s thinking about calling his brothers in for tea when the telltale sounds of people coming into the house filter in. Soon enough Kun and Doyoung make their way into the kitchen accompanied by Johnny.</p><p>Where did he even come from? </p><p>Johnny’s eyebrows arch for a second when his eyes land on Ten, an easy smile spreading on his face. </p><p>“Smells good in here,” he says, the smile turning into a grin. “Hey, Ten.”</p><p>“Hi,” Ten replies, realizing who the fourth cup of tea was meant for. </p><p>Doyoung presents Johnny with his own mug, for which he thanks and takes a seat at the table. Directly in front of Ten. As Johnny sips on his drink, his eyes travel through the kitchen. None of the odd paraphernalia seem to spark his curiosity, not even the big ass black crystal in the middle of the table. Strangely, it’s Ten’s face that retains most of his attention.</p><p>“We should run those trace spells before it gets dark,” Kun suggests, the noise of his mug meeting the bottom of the sink tinkling in the air.</p><p>“Take a shower first,” Doyoung says. </p><p>Ten’s brothers disperse as if their guest is not currently sitting right there, mug of steaming hot tea in front of him, eyes stubbornly on Ten.</p><p>“So,” Johnny starts, elbow on the table, chin on his palm. “Are you going to exorcise Jeff today?”</p><p>First of all, how the hell does he know about Jeff? Trusting him with family secrets is already a stretch, now giving him information on the house resident ghost too? The aunts were so frightened that the spirit would suddenly take on a vengeance path and try to possess any of them that they insisted on keeping the triplets away from the basement at all cost. Ten doesn’t know much about Jeff aside from the fact that he’s someone the aunts used to know in their youth and met a tragic fate while trying to break into the house.</p><p>Squinting at Johnny, Ten repositions the obsidian. Just to have something to do with his hands. And also hoping that Johnny will see the action as something meaningful (witchy) and stop trying to make conversation.</p><p>“No,” he says.</p><p>Ten could just leave. He could go to the conservatory and pick some tea leaves to fry. The library certainly needs a sweep.</p><p>“Oh. Which one is it today?”</p><p>Johnny must be talking about the list. </p><p>“Garden,” Ten responds curtly. Seriously, he could leave. “The wisteria is sick.”</p><p>“I noticed,” Johnny nods, drinking from his mug. For a fleeting second, his eyes slide to the crystal, where Ten’s hands still rest.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Ten questions. Perhaps not the friendliest tone he’s ever used.</p><p>It doesn’t seem to faze Johnny. “Brought Doyoung some papers,” he lifts the mug. “Having some tea. Talking to you.”</p><p>“I’m not in the mood for talking.”</p><p>“Seems accurate.”</p><p>Johnny rotates the mug, eyes on the liquid sloshing inside. Ten narrows his eyes.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Shrugging, Johnny says, “Nevermind.”</p><p><i>Nevermind?</i> You don’t say something that pointed unless you want your interlocutor to make sense of it. Right now Johnny is pretending he doesn’t mind the intensity of Ten’s glare, which just pushes Ten into glaring even harder. He pulls his hands from the crystal, folding his arms. Johnny’s eyes slip up; Ten makes sure to arch an eyebrow at him.</p><p>Johnny sighs, says:</p><p>“Whenever someone stepped anywhere near you and your brothers, you’d literally growl.”</p><p>He’s talking about school, that’s for sure. His remark brings color and heat to Ten’s cheeks.</p><p>“I would not!” Ten splutters.</p><p>Chuckling, Johnny leans forward, engaged. “Yes, you would! We couldn’t even look at you, Ten, you were always glaring and going all ‘what are you looking at?’!”</p><p>Ten huffs, “That’s preposterous.”</p><p>“You were quite ferocious and protective.”</p><p>“Because everyone was always after us.”</p><p>Especially the crowd Johnny was attached to. Fucking Park. How did he expect Ten to be civil to those animals? Was he supposed to have smiled every time they were called weirdos? Should Ten have greeted those people before or after spending an entire period cleaning horse shit off his locker?</p><p>“I thought it was cute.”</p><p>Positive that he must have heard wrong, Ten inquires, “What?”</p><p>“You,” Johnny brings the rim of the mug to his lips. “You were cute. Like a small wild cat. Remember when you left three very symmetrical scratches on Park’s face? Or the black eye he sported for like two weeks?”</p><p>Being compared to a wild cat brings Ten a weird amount of satisfaction. He puffs out his chest, slightly tilting his chin up. “He got that coming, as usual.”</p><p>“You could pack a mean punch for such a small kid.”</p><p>“I can still land one if you try me.”</p><p>Laughing, Johnny shakes his head. He holds Ten’s gaze for a bit. “No, thanks.”</p><p>Johnny turns to swirl the mug once again, the heat from the beverage hitting his cheeks in puffs, making it just a little red. There’s a thought Ten’s been playing with since the last time he saw John Suh. Now feels like the perfect moment to get it out.</p><p>“You say that,” he says, attentive as Johnny lowers the mug to stare at him. “But it’s not like you’ve ever tried to talk to us.”</p><p>The effect is immediate. Eyes downcast, hands fidgeting with each other. Johnny doesn’t seem to have an answer ready for that one.</p><p>“I know.” Eventually, Johnny brings his eyes back to Ten’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”</p><p>That’s it. He doesn’t elaborate on the motivation behind keeping away, nor tries to make excuses for himself. At least for that last part, Ten is somewhat thankful. To him, there really isn’t an explanation for that besides kids in school being either too terrified of them to come one step too close, or seeing the three of them as targeted losers.</p><p>None of it matters anymore. It didn’t even matter back then, when it felt like it was Ten, Kun, and Doyoung against the world. Johnny is right, Ten wouldn’t have let him anywhere near the three of them.</p><p> </p><p>Later, after Johnny is gone and Ten, Kun, and Doyoung are sitting in a tentative circle in the attic, the elements around them, sage burning in the center and magic hovering above, Ten decides to bring it up.</p><p>“How much have things changed?”</p><p>It’s obviously not the moment, and Ten’s brothers understand that clearly judging by the glares he receives.</p><p>“We’re in the middle of something here, Ten,” Kun points out. The aunts’ list rests below the small ceramic piece holding the bundle of burning sage. “Were you even gathering?”</p><p>Ten rolls his eyes. “Of course I was gathering, I can gather energy in my fucking sleep. Now, answer me.”</p><p>The circle breaks the minute Doyoung disentangles their hands with a heavy sigh, bringing his fingers to massage the bridge of his nose. </p><p>“This trace spell was important,” he says.</p><p>“You’ve been doing trace spells every day, how has it helped?” Ten pokes, annoyance rising his hackles. </p><p>He knows there’s no reason to act like that around his brothers, but something… Something bothers him about it; about John Suh, and Doyoung’s loyal customers, and the friends they mentioned. It’s not jealousy, Ten is not jealous. He just doesn’t get it. Why would his brothers just let it all come to them after everything this stupid town has put them through? </p><p>“What’s on your mind?” Kun asks. Unlike Doyoung’s, his hand is still clasped to Ten’s, gently squeezing.</p><p>“I just want to know when things stopped being like they were,” Ten says, and immediately starts feeling silly. Why does he even care about that? He should be happy his brothers are no longer dealing with the kind of shit they had to face in the past. </p><p>Kun and Doyoung watch him for what feels like an eternity, and Ten is considering just standing up and leaving the room when Doyoung says, “I know you’re thinking that things changed after you left.”</p><p>Ten turns to face him. “And they didn’t?”</p><p>“In a way,” Doyoung replies. He sounds serene, sure. “But not because you left.”</p><p><i>Why, then?</i> Ten doesn’t need to voice the question, he’s positive his siblings can hear it in the air. </p><p>“We decided that things had to change,” Kun explains. Lifting the ceramic piece, he retrieves the aunts’ list from the floor.</p><p>Doyoung continues, “We sat outside and prayed to the moon, but all she gave us was the knowledge that whatever change we wanted was going to come from us.”</p><p>“We were kind to people, kinder than they deserved,” Kun says after folding the list and pocketing it. Slowly, he organizes the space around them by pulling all the containers to the center. “It wasn’t about making them like us, it was about living a good life. Making this a good environment for us, you see?”</p><p>“These people spent their lives hating our Family,” Doyoung continues. “But why did they have to hate <i>us</i>? That’s the kind of thought we wanted to grow around here. No matter what our ancestors did and how they lived, we don’t deserve the same kind of treatment they got.”</p><p>Ten watches as they clean up the circle, muttering words of gratitude as they drain the water from the containers and put the soil back into the plant pots. He could argue that their ancestors probably didn’t deserve what they got as well, but decides against it. In the end, Ten understands the reasoning behind it all -- it’s the same that got him to believe his fate had been decided by some kind of clue that came to him in a dream. It’s wanting freedom, whether it is from a prison you’ve built yourself, or one that was handcrafted for you. Is Ten in a position to judge that kind of feeling?</p><p>Grabbing the nearest candle, Ten blows it off, blinking as tendrils of smoke curl up into the air, dancing amongst all the energy they’ve gathered.</p><p>He built a life far from home, didn’t he? He’s got an apartment and his own plants, and he met new people in the city. There’s Hansol, the guy who works in the adjacent cubicle. Terrifying Joohyun always extends him an invitation for her celebrations. Ten’s got a gym membership for crying out loud. He grew up, things also shifted for him. The only difference between his shift and his brothers’ is that Kun and Doyoung never needed to leave home for it to happen. </p><p>Did Ten <i>need</i> to leave? Would things also have changed for him regardless?</p><p>“Come on, baby,” Kun says, a lilt to his voice that’s teasing enough to break through Ten’s thoughts. “Let’s have some dinner.”</p><p>Hand still firmly wrapped around the candle, Ten pulls himself to his feet. He’s fully aware that any answers he might be seeking will not come to him like this, so Ten holds onto the hand Doyoung offers him and follows his brothers downstairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. waxing gibbous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There’s something in here, Ten thinks, unsure of how long it’s been here or what exactly it is, but positive that it’s real.</p><p>Ten felt it in the flap of the butterfly’s wings, back in Doyoung’s shop. He felt it on his very first night home, when Johnny smiled at him completely unbothered by his hostility. It was there in the form of Johnny’s honesty, burning like the beginnings of a flame in the pit of Ten’s stomach. Every time Ten asked him something he thought would shake him up and Johnny gave him a straight answer, no excuses. It <i>is</i> something, no matter how desperately Ten would like for it to go completely silent, it turns inside him like cogs, building up.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Howdy! It's been a while haha.<br/>I really like this chapter, so I hope you'll enjoy it as well.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>4</b>
    <br/>
    <i>Form a circle of protection around the house.</i>
  </p>
</div>Nutmeg, flour, honey, cinnamon.<p>The mental shopping list is currently getting lost amid Ten’s thoughts. Traditionally, they only cook big meals during Mabon and Samhain; Yule sometimes. Those are occasions Ten, Kun, and Doyoung learned to look forward to; more for the atmosphere that surrounded their home than for what it really was supposed to mean. Mabon meant hearty pies and buttery buns whereas Samhain was for warm soup and more pies. Throughout the years, the Aunts had it all rehearsed to perfection, from the menu to the spells and rituals. By the end of the night, their Family of five would sit by the fire, nursing rose honey tea and reading the best pages out of one of their grimoires.</p><p>They didn’t usually celebrate Beltane with more than an altar and a string of spells, but this is the first time in years that Ten spends an important date home. He just knows that if the Aunts were around, they’d cook him a meal worthy of a Samhain dinner table.</p><p>Back home with the groceries, he sits by the table with Aunt Hee’s huge ass cooking book. It’s an old thing, but smooth and crispy clean as new. Her recipes aren’t like the ones Ten fishes online; they all have a certain magical aspect to them. </p><p><i>Two pinches of nutmeg for luck</i>, one of them says. <i>Add cinnamon for just a tiny taste of love</i>.</p><p>Witch Cuisine, as she would call, is an art in itself. Some of it comes from the homegrown ingredients used (such as the carrots and lettuce Ten got from the garden earlier and the herbs he asked Kun to pick), but most of it is plain mood. A witch’s mood has the power to completely alter the way food tastes. They might unassumingly cast a bitter aftertaste into a pot of soup just as a light-hearted preparation can make a meal taste heavenly without much effort.</p><p>Ten is feeling quite light-hearted when Doyoung, Kun, and a man he’s never seen before make their way into the kitchen. Kun has one of the big tomes they keep in the library, Doyoung has the man wrapped around him.</p><p>Pushing the cooking book out of the way, Kun drops the tome on the table.</p><p>Ten frowns. “Um. Excuse me?” He looks at the man clinging to Doyoung, taking in the rosy tint to his brother’s cheeks. </p><p>“Circle of protection,” Kun says as a means of explanation. “It’s not just a spell, we’ll need to place tokens around four strategic points of the house and then perform a circle ritual to connect those points.”</p><p>Ten’s listening to Kun, but his eyes can’t move away from Doyoung and this koala man. What…? Where did that come from?</p><p>“Hello,” he says, knowing that his eyebrows are knitted in a way that suggests displeasure. Koala Man finally faces him. “I’m Ten. Who are you?”</p><p>“Jaehyun,” the man, Jaehyun, says. He smiles and dimples pop on his face. He’s got the sweetest, most deceptive smile Ten’s ever seen.</p><p>“He’s going to help,” Doyoung says, clearing his throat right after. Unable to meet Ten’s eyes, Doyoung disentangles from Jaehyun. “Jaehyun is a friend.”</p><p>“A friend?” Ten questions, not expecting an answer. Snorting as Jaehyun, once again, hooks an arm around Doyoung, Ten directs his attention to Kun. “A circle of protection.”</p><p>“Yep. It’s not super easy, but we should be able to handle it. The only problem is that we’re going to need human energy.” Kun peers up, blinks at Ten. “So we thought about your Beltane dinner and, maybe, we could invite some more people? Borrow their energy?”</p><p>There you go. A perfectly traditional Family celebration turned rager. Nevermind the non-Family member present while they discuss the details of a circle spell, Ten is going to cook a whole meal for a bunch of people he’s never seen. </p><p>He’s part of this Family, his opinion holds some kind of weight. However, this is ultimately Kun and Doyoung’s house. Ten doesn’t live here anymore, he’s just a guest. If the hosts decide to invite their friends, they can. Also, wasn’t Ten just thinking about that? It’s a good thing that his brothers don’t have to live watching out for their own shadows anymore. Even the fact that they have friends to invite over is a reason for celebration.</p><p>As Jaehyun whispers in his ear and Doyoung giggles in delight, Ten wonders why Jaehyun’s presence is necessary. He really doesn’t think it is.</p><p>“Sorry to interrupt,” Ten says, pulling everyone’s attention. “Jaehyun, do you mind giving us some privacy?”</p><p>Jaehyun is visibly taken aback by the request, slowly removing his arm from Doyoung. He says, “Sure. I’ll be out on the patio,” and leaves the room, but not before pressing a loud and wet kiss to Doyoung’s cheek.</p><p>Silence envelops the trio after Jaehyun is gone, only the rustling of the plants sitting near the windows can be heard. Ten is the one to break it.</p><p>“I have no idea what kind of thing y’all have going here, but I do not think we should be talking witch stuff when someone else is around.”</p><p>Kun sighs. “We don’t have anything going on.”</p><p>“But you do!” Ten protests. It’s strange that he feels so strongly against this. “Being out and proud is <i>not</i> about publicly announcing that you can do magic. Maybe this is why the Aunts wanted me back; the two of you have lost it!” Doyoung looks like he wants to argue, but Ten keeps going. “How many more know about us? Have you been practicing around town in exchange for the people’s favor?”</p><p>As expected, Doyoung is the one to knock heads with Ten. “Shut the fuck up, you have no clue what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t?” Ten folds his arms in his chest, letting sarcasm command his voice when he speaks. “John Suh, now this Jaehyun dude? Score, by the way! He’s really handsome, Doie, but he’s <i>not</i> supposed to be privy to our practice!”</p><p>Cheeks impossibly red, Doyoung opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. He squints at Ten the way he does when he’s truly upset but is trying to gather his thoughts in order to avoid saying something he’ll regret. Out of all three of them, Doyoung has always been the most transparent one; easy to figure out. </p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>Surprisingly, the question comes from Kun. Ten turns to look at him, and Kun’s got a placid look on his face, like he’s not in the middle of an argument with his siblings.</p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>Kun repeats, “Why not? Why is Jaehyun not supposed to be privy to our practice? Who wrote that line in the witch rulebook?”</p><p>He watches Ten closely, aloof and unruffled. As opposed to Doyoung, Kun is the best one at hiding his emotions.</p><p>Ten swallows thickly, lowering his eyes for a moment to escape the intensity of Kun’s. He knows where he stands, yet, he’s suddenly embarrassed about his outburst like there isn’t any merit to his claim. </p><p>Aside from ‘if you harm none, do as you will’, there’s no rule to witchcraft. Witches find lifestyles that suit them; doing magic in plain sight and hiding their ways are equally valid. </p><p>“It’s not how we do things,” he says weakly. Soon enough he realizes his choice of words and shakes his head. “I mean, it’s not how we used to do things.”</p><p>It’s awkward. The air is charged with something weird, something they haven’t had to deal with in a very long time. When Ten’s eyes start watering, he feels very irrational. Still, he’s not about to burst into tears right after being overpowered in a disagreement.</p><p>“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, hoping he’s been able to conceal how shaky his voice sounds. “Call me when it’s time for the circle spell.”</p><p>He leaves the room, eyes glued to the floor, knowing he’s being ridiculous but unable to handle anything but his own thoughts right now. Ten’s footsteps are heavy on the staircase, but the quicker he locks himself in the bathroom, the faster he’ll be able to cry.</p><p>Kun and Doyoung are probably muttering about his unreason, how fickle and petty he’s become. In the bathroom, Ten sits with his back against the door, doing his best not to sob.</p><p>The truth is that he feels out of place. </p><p>He came home to different dynamics and both of his brothers totally used to it. Ten knows, he <i>knows</i> it’s not about hiding their magic and not befriending a single local. He can’t help it, though, it hurts. It shouldn’t, he’s being selfish. More so than he was the day he jumped out the window and never looked back.</p><p>In the past, it was Ten throwing punches and assuring them that they could pull through even if the whole world hated them. Well, if the world doesn’t hate them anymore, what purpose does Ten serve here?</p><p> </p><p>An hour later, Kun comes into the library where Ten’s browsing through some magical conjuring grimoires to ask if he’s not going to cook anymore. </p><p>Truth be told, Ten doesn’t feel like it. Yet, he knows that not following the plan will seem even worse than the breakdown he performed for his brothers earlier in the kitchen. So he cooks. </p><p>Roasted carrots and lemon pepper chicken, sautéed mushrooms, beet and goat cheese salad, moon cookies, and tea. Not as lavish as he would have liked, but enough. Since Ten isn’t sure how many people will be showing up, he comes down to the patio, where Doyoung and Jaehyun have been lounging for the better part of the afternoon, and suggests that they ask their friends to bring more food.</p><p>“I don’t think we’ll have that many people over, Ten,” Doyoung says, looking tame and almost apologetic. “Besides, they’ll pop up after dinner.”</p><p>“Drinks, at least.” Ten makes to leave, but Doyoung calls for him.</p><p>“Wait,” he says, leaving Jaehyun’s side to jog over to the backdoor steps, where Ten is standing. He hesitates for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry about earlier.”</p><p>Immediately, Ten shakes his head. If there’s one thing he’s sure of is that he shouldn’t be getting any apologies from Doyoung, or Kun, or anyone.</p><p>“It’s my fault, Doie,” he resigns, scratching the back of his neck. Ten can feel Jaehyun’s eyes on them, alert. “I shouldn’t be trying to tell you how to live. This is your home.”</p><p>“It’s your home too,” Doyoung is quick to say. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “It’s never going to stop being your home, no matter where you are.”</p><p>Emotions will never cease to amaze Ten. Despite him having spent about thirty minutes convincing himself that it’s okay his brothers decided to change their approach to magic and life in general, Doyoung’s speech still grips at his heart. It has the quaint taste of validation, but one that’s entirely undeserving. He’s got no right to a home he abandoned so many years ago, does he?</p><p>Ten’s eyes stray away from Doyoung’s, falling onto the figure still sitting on the patio, watchful as he awaits for Doyoung’s return. Jaehyun looks like a nice guy.</p><p>“I’m happy for you,” he states, smiling at his brother. “For both of you. I’m glad you found a pace that works.”</p><p>Doyoung snorts, ruffling his own hair. “If it worked, the Aunts wouldn’t have disappeared. Something’s wrong here, Ten.”</p><p>Something is definitely wrong, Ten reckons, but that’s not what they’re talking about. “I meant the life you built for yourself. It’s pretty good.”</p><p>“Yours too,” Doyoung says. </p><p>Ten used to think so, but he’s been just one step from reevaluating all his life choices. Where once was the certainty that he’d made the right move now lies the prickling thought that he might have fucked it all up.</p><div class="center">
  <p>☾</p>
</div>Dinner is a lot less tense than Ten envisioned. Jaehyun giggles a lot, but he seems to be harmless (his bread face stops bothering Ten five minutes in). Everyone praises his cooking, which inflates his ego for a brief moment; a pleasant event altogether. Doyoung and Jaehyun offer to clean up and Kun pulls Ten into the conservatory so they can gather the tools and ingredients needed for the circle.<p>The small pots they use for the soil and water are made of labradorite, recently crafted by Kun himself during one of his extended writer blocks. Labradorite is not listed on the instructions to the spell as an essential item, but they guess its negativity-repelling powers might be of some use. Along with fully charged green fluorites to filter the energy they’ll be gathering, small stumps of birch and bits of silver are to act as their tokens. </p><p>“We’ll essentially be creating these wards around the house so no evil intent will come in,” Kun explains as he picks some dried herbs. “We should distribute them now and when the time comes, we perform the spell in the attic.”</p><p>They form a rectangle shape, placing one token in each corner of the land. Then, Ten is in charge of sweeping up the attic (it’s actually Kun’s room, but also their current spell zone) and preparing the space for the circle spell. He arranges the flowers in a circle; carnation, heather, and holly for protection. The candles and elements go inside the circle along with the herbs to be burned. Once he deems it all ready, Ten heads to Doyoung’s room to change.</p><p>The last party he’s been to was an office function celebrating Christmas. It happened on a Friday after everyone had clocked out, nobody had dressed any differently than usual and some people didn’t even stay. Before that, there had been Terrifying Joohyun’s Litha gathering. That was fun, Ten drank too much mead and had to stay over. His life is a pretty slow-paced one; it’s work, home, gym, grocery store. Maybe a cafe visit during the weekend if he’s feeling frisky.</p><p>The knowledge that he’ll meet new people tonight has Ten worrying about what to wear. He hasn’t got much aside from a long brown coat, some simple shirts and two pairs of jeans that have seen better days. Rummaging through Doyoung’s closet is fruitless, so, defeated, Ten pulls on the plainest outfit in his lookbook: jeans, the last of his clean shirts, and the beige cardigan Seulgi, one of Joohyun’s coven friends, gifted him for his birthday a year ago. For some reason Seulgi had mistaken Ten for Chan, another stray witch Joohyun ended up collecting; the cardigan is too big, yet Ten still holds it dear. In addition, he suspects it’s charmed to feel warmer. </p><p>He doesn’t look party-appropriate in the least, but he wouldn’t be able to do any better than this. With one last mirror check, Ten takes a deep breath and ventures downstairs.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, there aren’t that many people around. The kitchen table is littered with snack packs and unopened bottles. From the kitchen back door leading out to the patio, Ten can see that all of his brothers’ guests are out there. He takes a tentative look outside, hanging by the door. There’s about fifteen people; some of them chat on the terrace, some of them by the couches in the patio. A group stands a bit farther away, underneath the pergola. Music blends with the chatter, but the people are so spread out that it isn’t noisy at all.</p><p>Ten stands by the door, unnoticed, for a couple of minutes. He’s seriously considering running upstairs and pretending to have fallen asleep when someone taps his shoulder. </p><p>He wasn’t expecting anyone to be indoors, but there he is. “I’m sorry, can you let me through?” </p><p>Ten stares at the man for a moment. He’s shorter than Ten by just a bit, blond hair and the strongest pair of eyebrows Ten’s ever seen. “Of course,” Ten says, finally stepping outside.</p><p>The man smiles, seemingly friendly, and before he goes on his merry way his eyes narrow, and he looks at Ten as if trying to figure out a puzzle. He asks, “Do I know you?”</p><p>“I don’t think so.”</p><p>Unconvinced, the man inquires, “What’s your name?”</p><p>“Ten.”</p><p>A loud gasp, and the man is grinning. “That’s it! You’re Kun’s brother, right? The lost triplet!”</p><p><i>The lost triplet</i>. What a way to be referred to. Again, not wrong.</p><p>Offering him a tight smile, Ten nods. “Yep. The lost triplet is alright.”</p><p>“Man! I’m Dejun, I work with Kun,” he says, looking absolutely delighted. “I’m his editor, actually, he’s been able to turn in two chapters recently and says it’s all thanks to you!” Ten’s confusion must show; Dejun explains, “He’s been in a total slump ever since, well, you know. That changed after you came home.”</p><p>Overlooking the fact that yet another person appears to be up to par with their Family issues, warmth spreads in Ten’s chest. By coming home, he hoped to be able to ease at least a portion of the burden his brothers have been carrying, even if cooking and cleaning is all that he can do. Although it doesn’t come directly from him, knowing that Kun attributes part of that to him makes Ten feel a little bit accomplished. </p><p>“It’s good to finally meet you,” Dejun continues. “Those two wouldn’t stop rambling about you.” His eyes take on a soft glint. “They really missed you.”</p><p>Ten smiles back. “It’s good to meet you too.”</p><p>“Come! There’s some people who’d love to see you.”</p><p>That’s how Ten finds himself amid the people by the patio, Dejun excitedly introducing him as the lost triplet. He meets a ridiculously good-looking man named Taeyong who runs a produce stall at the market, also this tall dude called Yukhei, whose voice could certainly rival the speakers boosting music into the night. They ask him about his job in the city and how often he got to see his siblings. If he missed home; if he’s ever thought about coming back.</p><p>Luckily, Kun arrives before Ten is given the chance to respond to those last questions.</p><p>“Hey!” He greets, hand at the back of Ten’s neck. “I’m glad you showed up.”</p><p>Ten doesn’t mention he nearly backed out. “I met your editor, Dejun.” He points his chin towards the man now animatedly chatting with the others.</p><p>Kun’s eyes shift to Dejun, then soften, a smile popping onto his face. “He’s nice, isn’t he?”</p><p>Ten’s got an inkling that Kun doesn’t need to be reassured of that. </p><p>Patting his brother’s arm, Ten steps away once he’s positive no one is paying any attention to him. When he’s gone, Kun slides up to Dejun, shoulder to shoulder. In a corner, Doyoung and Jaehyun giggle to each other, blissfully unconcerned about other people’s eyes on them. </p><p>With a deep breath, Ten hauls himself back inside. If he weren’t supposed to perform a spell soon, he’d get one of those bottles open and drink himself to such a stupor his brain wouldn’t be able to overthink. Instead, Ten pours some of the rose honey tea that was left from dinner and sits by the kitchen table, nursing his half-filled cup. </p><p>The atmosphere is good, light-hearted and quite fun. People are enjoying themselves amongst friends and Ten’s brothers look the happiest they’ve been since he came home. He’s still not totally comfortable to walk around and meet a parade of new people, though, so he sips on his tea and sits by himself. Subconsciously, Ten is making a list of everyone he knows and is friendly enough with back in the city. There’s Hansol who has lunch with him on occasion and the witch Joohyun and the five people in her coven. He <i>could</i> include the couple selling bagels near the substation…</p><p>Johnny finds him like that, staring down at the tea in his cup while convincing himself that that is a perfectly reasonable number of people to know. </p><p>“Ten, hey!” He greets, pleasantly surprised. There’s a bottle of something in his hand, the other flying up to brush back his hair. As Ten has come to expect, John’s locks cascade luxuriously, giving him a certain air of joy and blithesomeness. He’s wearing a black button-down that happens to not have their top two buttons buttoned (????) and dark pants. The silver chain around his neck glimmers under the kitchen lights, accenting his collarbones. </p><p>Ten swallows, feeling his throat kind of dry. He drinks tea.</p><p>“Hi,” he answers, averting his eyes when Johnny takes a seat at the table right across from him.</p><p>“Why are you out here all by yourself?”</p><p>“I like being in the company of my own thoughts.”</p><p>Humming, Johnny props his elbow on the table, chin resting on his open palm. He blinks at Ten. It’s disconcerting.</p><p>“What have you got there?” Johnny asks, eyes on Ten’s drink.</p><p>“Just some tea,” Ten shrugs. There’s mirth in the curve of Johnny’s lips, and it’s puzzling because Ten doesn’t see what’s funny about this conversation.</p><p>Johnny hums yet again, tilting his head so that his cheek is leaning on his hand. Although his face is relaxed, his eyes still feel piercing and unrelenting. Ten can feel them traveling across his own face, down his neck, to his fingers wrapped around the cup. Johnny’s gaze is inquisitive; like he’s expecting to find answers in Ten’s body, the way he’s sitting, and the clothes he’s wearing.</p><p>They sit in silence for a while; Johnny watching his every move, Ten pretending the attention doesn’t unsettle him.</p><p>“Have you met everyone?” Johnny asks at some point. There’s no real curiosity behind the question, it sounds like a conversation filler.</p><p>“I’ve met some people,” Ten says, a finger circling the rim of his now empty cup. A thought crosses his mind, and he looks up at Johnny. “Does everybody know about us? What we do and how we live.”</p><p>The hint of the smile Johnny’s been holding back since he came in finally vanishes. He slightly narrows his eyes. “You mean the witch stuff?”</p><p>“Yeah, the witch stuff,” Ten replies. “It’s like everyone knows. And they don’t care.” He lowers his eyes to the crystal on the table. “It didn’t use to be like that.”</p><p>Johnny doesn’t answer immediately. “A lot has changed.”</p><p><i>That</i> is what Ten’s been struggling to grasp. He understands how it changed and why his brothers thought they had to, but did everyone suddenly wake up one day willing to let go of the preconception harbored for generations that their Family was capable of horrible things? </p><p>He voices the question in his head. “What exactly has changed?” Ten asks. He doesn’t use a patronizing tone, nor tries to bait Johnny into a pointless argument. The curiosity is genuine, and Ten is transparent about it judging by the way Johnny shifts his position, resting both arms on the table.</p><p>Johnny looks unsure for a brief moment, then explains, “I think… People just realized they meant no harm. I mean your Family.”</p><p>“That sounds so simple,” Ten says, letting out a half-hearted chuckle. “If only they’d realized that a bit sooner.”</p><p>“It happened a lot more naturally than you’re probably imagining,” Johnny points out, seemingly remembering the existence of the bottle he abandoned somewhere on the table. He takes a sip, hissing and then glaring at the bottle as if it’s offensive. Ten brushes it aside.</p><p>Naturally. Like the change of seasons, smoothly blending into one another until the air and the landscapes all feel and look different. All those years, no change. No gentle breeze; all stormy all the time. The idea that Ten was the one barricading the metaphorical door gets stronger with each passing day. He’d always been the one to take charge; it was he who fought those mean kids when they were younger. The thought that they’d be better off left to their own devices came from Ten, initially, and that’s really how he felt. To him, the three of them didn’t need anyone but themselves and the Aunts.</p><p>What puzzles him is why neither Kun nor Doyoung said anything if they felt something had to change.</p><p>“Was it me?” He asks, a little dazed, somewhat confused. </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Ten meets Johnny’s eyes, sees his own confusion mirrored there. He rephrases, “Was I the one stopping them from having all of this?” Ten gestures vaguely around, looking past Johnny and out the back door. There’s people dancing now and Kun is one of them. He appears to be having a good time.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Johnny answers. He sounds confident, sure. “If anything, they wouldn’t have gotten here without you.” Ten just looks at him in question; Johnny elaborates, “You never cowered. People tried to shame you, but you refused. I don’t know if you realize that, but you never denied any of those insinuations that you came from a family of witches. All you did was fight back and make people think twice before messing with you and your brothers.</p><p>“I think that attitude helped them understand there was nothing to be ashamed of. Their approach was just a tad different, but they didn’t do anything wondrous.”</p><p>The way Ten sees it, there are two different lifetimes. In the first one, they were outcasts doomed to walk around with a shield held high at all times. In that lifetime, Ten, Kun, and Doyoung were together. The environment in the second lifetime is devastatingly different in a good way. Except that this time around, they’re not together anymore. Kun and Doyoung did this on their own while Ten was miles and miles away. What Johnny is suggesting is that Ten was, somehow, a part of the process that made both lifetimes so distinct from each other.</p><p>And it makes sense.</p><p>He’s right, the approach was different, but the feeling is the same. Kun and Doyoung have been living unapologetically, baring their souls for whoever feels like taking a peek. Albeit lacking their charm and kindness, Ten stood by his magic. Hiding and being discreet about their practice never felt like an act out of shame. It was a lot more about protecting something important, something outsiders weren’t worthy of. Things did change, and the people dancing out on the patio do not resemble the ones from Ten’s past. </p><p>Neither does Johnny. Ten tries to pull a memory from the back of his mind in which Johnny had acted poorly towards them and can’t find anything. He was there, sure, but if not for his connection to Park, Johnny’s presence would have been totally removed from theirs. Back then, hanging out with someone who was awful to them was enough for Ten to completely shut him out.</p><p>“Why were you friends with Park?” Ten asks. He’s aware they’ve already had this conversation, but Ten would like to revisit the topic. Just to be sure.</p><p>Johnny holds his gaze. “I told you, our moms were friends.”</p><p>It’s not the answer Ten was looking for. “I know,” he pushes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be friends with <i>him</i>. He was so awful.”</p><p>“Which is why I stopped hanging out with him before high school,” Johnny explains. He leans, arms crossed on the surface of the table. “Park wasn’t just mean to you guys, he was mean to everybody. He’s been in jail twice since graduation. His family moved away, I have no idea of his whereabouts. That guy had a bunch of issues, and no will to sort them out.”</p><p>“He didn’t act alone, you know,” Ten insists.</p><p>Johnny says, “Those other guys were terrified of him. They’d do anything Park told them if that meant they’d be left alone.”</p><p>Ten thinks about asking if Johnny was also afraid of Park at some point. He asks something else instead. “Did he give you shit for quitting?”</p><p>Shrugging, Johnny shakes his head. He looks down at Ten’s hands, still holding the empty tea cup. It makes him self-conscious, fingers automatically loosening, releasing the cup. Ten fidgets with his hands for a second, unsure of where to place them. He’s not expecting Johnny to reach out and delicately touch the tips of their fingers. The touch is barely there, so gentle it feels like a thought. It still has Ten’s insides burning, chest expanding with a sharp intake of air.</p><p>Johnny looks up, assessing. He licks at his bottom lip, shaking his head once more. “We were never friends. Besides, his mom was a beast. She’d skin him alive if he touched a hair on my head. Her friendship with my mom was valuable to her, I guess.”</p><p>The pieces slide flawlessly together; Park’s need to release anger, his craving for attention and validation of any kind. Ten flexes his fingers just a bit, prods at Johnny’s. Says, “A lot of issues, you said.”</p><p>Slowly, Johnny’s fingers push underneath Ten’s, lifting them from the table. He thumbs at the side of Ten’s middle one curiously, his index sliding down to the knuckles. It feels oddly intimate to have someone touch his hand like this. Ten’s heart pounds in his chest; he doesn’t pull away.</p><p>“You have pretty hands,” Johnny says, voice not above a whisper. His gaze flickers between Ten’s face and where their fingers are now entwined. It’s a brusque change in subject, but Ten doesn’t mind. Honestly, he wouldn’t even know why he’s letting John Suh explore his hand like this, but it feels good. Soothing.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says. With both hands, Johnny lifts Ten’s, lining it palm to palm with his own.</p><p>“I’d never thought about your hands,” he says absently. “For years, I’ve been visiting this house and there are portraits of you everywhere. Sometimes I’d stop and look at you, try to remember what you were like in high school.”</p><p>Ten swallows, regretting not having poured himself another drink. “What did you think about?”</p><p>On a regular day, Ten would’ve already yanked his hand free. He’s not fond of people touching him for no apparent reason, but this… Johnny’s touch is mild, yet Ten feels his pulse on every point of contact between them.</p><p>“How cute you were,” is the answer he’s offered. It sounds like a calculated line. It makes Ten snort and roll his eyes, finally pulling his hand back from Johnny’s hold and resting both on his lap, away from the other man’s reach.</p><p>“When was I cute?” He inquires. “When I was growling at people or punching them?”</p><p>Johnny stops, blinks at him. The corner of his mouth does a minute tug. “When you were sitting by that couch in the library, remember? The one pushed against the big window. You’d sit there and doodle, maybe read, sometimes just talk to your brothers. I wondered if you liked sitting there because you knew sunlight would come in from the back and light up your shape like you were some kind of ethereal creature made of… Fairy dust or something.”</p><p>If Johnny’s eyes were mirrors, Ten would see his own blushing reflection staring back at him. The heat creeping up his neck is enough indication of the effect of Johnny’s words. So is the rhythm of his heart, so rapidly speeding that Ten starts feeling it beating everywhere -- his hands, his elbows, his neck, his tongue.</p><p>“You were really pretty on those days,” Johnny says, serene, voice almost a lullaby. “All days.”</p><p>When Ten was a kid, the Aunts had a friend that lived in a distant city. They wouldn’t hear from her often, but every year said friend would mail them a box. When the box would be coming was always a surprise; sometimes around Yule, maybe Imbolc. They just knew it would come, and it was tradition to gather in the sitting room to open the box together, the five of them. The contents were never the same nor disappointing. Ten remembers the thrill of sitting around the Aunts, the box in one of their laps, not knowing exactly what was inside but aware that it had to be good. Even if the gift had an unassuming appearance, there was more to it than they could have expected. Like the time they opened the box to a bunch of dried herbs. For a fleeting second, Ten let disappointment wash over him, until the Aunts grabbed a bunch of the herbs and lit them up. Ten doesn’t think he’s ever felt happiness like that, raw and pure, coming from within but also from the smoke and delicious scent of the burning herbs. The origin of those plants had Kun completely puzzled, and to this very day, he hasn’t been able to decipher what they were. Many of the trinkets and artifacts they got from the box had such an unexplainable characteristic to them that it was impossible not to anticipate the next delivery.</p><p>This, sitting with Johnny in the kitchen of the house Ten grew up in, heartbeat so loud he fears the other one might hear, feels like opening one of those boxes. He knows there’s something good in there because he can feel it, but at the same time, not knowing what is frightening. What if it bites him? What if it launches itself at him the minute he opens the box? What if it spews acid in his eyes, what if it’s air so toxic he’ll drop dead the minute he inhales it?</p><p>There’s something in here, Ten thinks, unsure of how long it’s been here or what exactly it is, but positive that it’s real.</p><p>Ten felt it in the flap of the butterfly’s wings, back in Doyoung’s shop. He felt it on his very first night home, when Johnny smiled at him completely unbothered by his hostility. It was there in the form of Johnny’s honesty, burning like the beginnings of a flame in the pit of Ten’s stomach. Every time Ten asked him something he thought would shake him up and Johnny gave him a straight answer, no excuses. It <i>is</i> something, no matter how desperately Ten would like for it to go completely silent, it turns inside him like cogs, building up.</p><p>His edges feel a bit numb, but Ten manages to ask, “Were you in love with me?”</p><p>There’s no point asking that; he knows it. They wouldn’t be able to change the past, no spell he knows of is capable of turning back time. For whatever reason, Ten is curious. </p><p>Johnny takes a moment, considering. His brows knit, and his lips part. “I could have been,” He answers, looking up at Ten. “If you had let me, I could have fallen for you then.”</p><p><i>If you had let me</i>, he says. How could Ten have allowed anything if he wasn’t even aware there was a hint of interest coming from Johnny?</p><p>Who is he kidding, he wouldn’t have let Johnny come close back then.</p><p>“Were you afraid?” Ten asks. “Is that why you never talked to us?”</p><p>“The three of you worked really well together. You didn’t look like you needed, or even wanted a friend. Approaching you never even crossed my mind.”</p><p>He has a point, Ten lived by the three of them being completely independent of outside influences (aka friends). If Johnny had tried anything, Ten would have nitpicked at it until he found an ulterior motive. Maybe he’s right; approaching the triplets had never been an option.</p><p>“Can I tell you a secret?”</p><p>Looking up, Ten sees sheer wonder in Johnny’s face. It takes him by surprise, Ten wasn’t expecting to be met with blatant infatuation right there, bared for his eyes. Well, it seems like Johnny does like him.</p><p>“Yes,” he mutters, chest feeling a bit tight.</p><p>“You might be the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.” Odd thought, but Johnny sounds like one of Ten’s dreams; the ones that have him springing up from his bed in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and heart threatening to jump out of his throat. They’re usually good ones, although Ten is left with the feeling of emptiness inside him once he realizes everything he went through happened in his sleep. So odd. Johnny is shaped <i>exactly</i> like one of those dreams.</p><p>The cogs inside him turn one more time, and Ten gets it. </p><p>Bringing his hands back onto the table, laced on top of each other, Ten smiles. Johnny doesn’t miss it, gaze lowering shortly.</p><p>Ten says, voice lilting and light, “You’re calling me pretty an awful lot tonight, Johnny. Is there something you want?”</p><p>And Johnny takes it seriously, leaning forward, sliding his hand further down the table until his pinky is nearly touching Ten’s. </p><p>“That depends,” he says, half-lidded eyes traveling from Ten’s eyes to his mouth. “Is there anything you’re willing to give me?”</p><p><i>Yes,</i> something screams deep inside Ten. The last person he was intimate with was one of Terrifying Joohyun’s friends. She was pretty and they had fun, but it certainly didn’t feel like she’d be able to pull Ten apart using just her voice. He didn’t feel inclined to just give himself over, not like this. And it’s conflicting because until a couple of hours ago, Ten doubted that Johnny could be trustworthy. Then again, he was just a little more stubborn a couple of hours ago.</p><p>The whole atmosphere shatters with the arrival of Doyoung.</p><p>“Hey, we’re ready,” he says loud enough to break into the glass dome of the kitchen table. </p><p>Johnny pulls away, clearing his throat in a very suspicious manner. Ten just stands up, rubbing the back of his neck. Doyoung looks between them, frowning.</p><p>“Did I interrupt anything?” He questions.</p><p>Ten and Johnny glance at each other. Johnny is silent, so Ten is obviously in charge of giving Doyoung a very clipped, “No.” When he finally glances at his brother, Doyoung’s mouth is comically wide and he looks amused. Irritation replaces the nice, bubbly feeling in his stomach, so Ten grabs Doyoung by the hand and drags him away from the kitchen. As they leave, Ten shoots one last look over his shoulder just in time to watch a bright grin open up on Johnny’s face.</p><p> </p><p>Although energy gathering is an essential area in witchcraft, not everyone has a flair for it. Until their conjuring apprenticeship, Doyoung hadn’t bothered with it, and he only ventured into gathering because you simply cannot get started into magical conjuring without knowing how to properly gather energy. It is actually pretty simple, like drinking from a glass of water. Just like drinking, you have to be careful when you swallow so it doesn’t go down the wrong pipe.</p><p>Gathering is about feeling the life around you, everything that creates an impulse in the world, that makes things move. Mindful to avoid the wrong kind of energy, you just have to… Pull it in. </p><p>The three of them sit in the circle Ten prepared, mind clear of anything that’s not the energy in their guests. It takes a lot of concentration to be able to portion the right amount of energy out of a living being and not leave them feeling completely drained. The spells to repel all the bad intent in Park’s heart during high school were great exercises in control; Ten, Kun, and Doyoung can gather like they’ve been doing it for generations.</p><p>The spell is done after they say a few words together: </p><p>
  <i>Smoke of air, and fire, and earth, <br/>Cleanse and bless this home and hearth,<br/>Drive away all harm and fear,<br/>Only good may enter here.</i>
</p><p>The windows in the attic blast open, white curtains flying as high as the ceiling when a strong gust of wind bursts in. At the same time, the flames of the candles in the circle get taller, burning stronger for a few seconds, and then going completely out.</p><p>It’s not done yet, Ten can feel it in the energy coursing inside him. Guided by pure instinct and the magic running alive around them, Ten, Kun, and Doyoung chant the words once more, and then again, louder, each time more intense than the last. The wind follows through, blowing forcefully, knocking all of Kun’s paintings off the walls, pushing some of his books out of the shelves. </p><p>They chant together one last time, and it all ceases. The energy disappears, and the wind has gone back out. Ten notices that the candles have all lit again. Now it’s done.</p><p>Doyoung heaves a long sigh, hand on his chest. “That was scary.”</p><p>“We did gather a lot of energy,” Kun reasons, face a little pale. </p><p>The three of them sit in silence, the smell of burning flowers still in the air. Ten feels like he just ran a marathon without ever leaving the attic floor. That’s the thing about energy gathering, you’ll make a concoction with the magic inside other people and living things but, in return, your own magical force just seems to vanish.</p><p>Kun lies back, eyes falling closed, and if it weren’t for the movement of oxygen coming in and out of his lungs, Ten would have panicked. </p><p>Doyoung reaches for a bottle of water resting next to him and gulps it all in one go.</p><p>One minute Ten’s watching his brother, the next he’s lying down next to Kun, dizzy, limbs going numb. His last thought is that he really needs a nap. Then, he blacks out.</p><p> </p><p>The first thing Ten notices as he wakes up is that the three of them are no longer alone in the attic. The second is that he’s sitting on the floor, back propped against Kun’s bed. Kun, on the other hand, is being helped up by that handsome guy Ten met downstairs. Tae… yong? Jaehyun is rubbing gentle circles on Doyoung’s back, his other hand on Doyoung’s forehead checking his temperature.</p><p>“I can’t go to bed, the people downstairs,” Kun is saying, voice rough. </p><p>Taeyong cuts in. “Don’t worry about them, Dejun and Yukhei are sending everyone home.”</p><p>“How the fuck did you know?” Doyoung inquires. He appears to be a little more in possession of his own faculties than Kun and clearly Ten, who’s only now attempting to shift his position. Moving takes too much effort, so Ten gives up and groans in frustration. He hears Doyoung’s worried, “Tennie?” and someone else says ‘help him’.</p><p>“Hey.” There’s a hand on Ten’s face. He can’t really see who it belongs to because his eyes slipped shut when he used what it felt like his last drops of energy trying to move. “Can you hear me? Ten?”</p><p>Ten mumbles ininteligible words, but manages to nod. </p><p>“You shouldn’t have done this alone,” Ten guesses it’s Jaehyun speaking. Someone coughs, and he continues. “I think it might have been too much.”</p><p>“No, we should have been able to handle this,” Doyoung argues. “I think it worked, but we’d never… I think we never realized how much this spell would take from us. It should have been easy, I mean, just a protection spell.”</p><p>“Not just a protection spell,” Kun interrupts. He sounds a bit more alert, albeit still coarse. “A circle ritual. Maybe we miscalculated the amount of energy we were going to need.”</p><p>“We double-checked,” Doyoung says. “We did everything right and it worked. Why did it pull so much from us?”</p><p>A circle ritual. There’s a memory, one that’s far from Ten’s reach right now, swimming in the pool of his thoughts… He thinks he heard something important about circle rituals once. Maybe from Joohyun or Seulgi or someone from the city coven.</p><p>“Ten?” the hand on his face lowers to his neck, and suddenly Ten knows exactly whose voice that is. “Can you open your eyes for me?” </p><p>“Is he okay?”</p><p>“I think he will be,” Johnny says, so close that his breath hits Ten’s face. “You want me to move you? Can you stand?”</p><p>“He’s too pale, Doyoung.”</p><p>“I’ve got some of that elixir in the cabinets, can you go get it?”</p><p>There’s shuffling, someone walking and exiting the room. Ten wants to open his eyes, tell them that he’s fine even if he feels like he’s trapped in a dream without any means to escape. </p><p>“Baby?” Doyoung’s is closer now, his hand warm on Ten’s skin. “Let’s get him to the bed. It’s fine, don’t move just yet.”</p><p>“Why is he so wasted?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>It’s the last sentence Ten catches before his conscience slips away from him.</p><div class="center">
  <p>☾</p>
</div>Ten knows he’s not in Doyoung’s room by the smell of flowers. <p>Lifting a single eyelid takes a bit more than he would have expected, but he pulls through. He’s in the attic, lying in Kun’s bed in yesterday’s clothes. Looking around, Ten can tell that someone did a very poor job cleaning up. There’s dirt near one of the flower pots and petals all over the floor, as well as dry candle wax. Bit by bit, the picture of what happened last night puts itself together in his mind, multi-colored smoke collecting the puzzle pieces from all around the room.</p><p>They performed the circle spell. No, circle <i>ritual</i>; they’re not the same. It was hard, took them longer, they had to chant the verse several times for it to work. By the end of the ritual, Ten felt like he’d given the entirety of his magic and energy over to the Goddess. Not that he’d see a problem with that, but it wasn’t what the spell (ritual) was supposed to do. Kun hadn’t read them any excerpts in that big tome of his saying that performing that specific circle ritual would offer death as an after-effect. Even if he had read something like that, it wouldn’t make any sense. Protection spells aren’t meant to kill anyone, no matter how powerful or strenuous they are.</p><p>Ten gets out of bed, wincing as he stretches and carefully putting himself on his feet. It’s already morning, which means he slept throughout the night. He checks his phone, reading a couple of work emails as he goes downstairs. The tell-tale scent of tea lures him to the kitchen, where he finds both of his brothers sporting the same concerned look on their faces.</p><p>“Hey,” Kun greets, bringing a steaming mug of hot tea over and placing it on the table. He indicates where Ten is supposed to sit, so Ten just… Sits. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>Doyoung is leaning back on the counter, arms folded, legs crossed, and an impossible furrow on his brows. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for Ten to answer Kun’s question while the eggs cook on the stove.</p><p>“Fine,” Ten says, drinking some tea. “At least I think I’m fine. My body feels a bit tired, but nothing like last night.”</p><p>“We got worried,” Kun says. His face would have given it all away if he hadn’t said anything. “I mean, we weren’t supposed to have reacted like that to a protection ritual. We did everything right.”</p><p>“Seems like I took it a lot harder than you guys,” Ten points out, looking at both of them.</p><p>After scrambling the eggs, Doyoung transfers them to a plate and offers it to Ten. He says, “We still have no idea why, though.”</p><p>Ten almost agrees with that remark, but then something important flashes through his head. He might have considered that last night when he was too buzzed out to actually process any of his thoughts, but now he’s able to fully grasp the implications of this one memory.</p><p>Dope Soup, the big guy with pink hair who always brought amazing soup to all of Terrifying Joohyun’s potluck dinners had been teaching some of them about tarot reading for most of the night; everyone was feeling a bit out of their own game when someone suggested a circle ritual to even out their energies. Ten guesses it was Joohyun who talked them all out of it. She said, “Circle rituals are not to be handled carelessly. If one is not ready for it, the circle will just eat up all of their magic. Besides, you’ve all been drinking, and energy gathering while drunk can lead to the wrong kind of energy being pulled into the ritual, and that would be messy.”</p><p>“But we didn’t drink,” Doyoung refutes after Ten lays it all out. “I know I didn’t. Did you?”</p><p>“No,” Kun replies.</p><p>Ten shakes his head in response, adding, “No, but that’s not all of it.”</p><p>He remembers how the witches present that night protested, claiming they were in perfect conditions for an impromptu circle ritual in which all the practitioners had each drank at least two whole bottles of tequila. Joohyun waved them all off. “None of you appears to know how circle rituals work. They’re complex, they can have a terrible outcome if things aren’t done properly. For instance, none of you are blood-related and every witch knows circle rituals work better when the ones performing it are blood-related.” For the record, they didn’t know about that part.</p><p>“Not in those exact words, I’m afraid,” Ten shrugs. He did drink half a bottle that night, the memory is fuzzy. “But that’s the gist of what she said. Also, she pointed out we were all drunk and had never performed that kind of ritual together. Apparently, the more you do it, the better you get. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.” </p><p>Actually, Ten knows why. He was too busy getting pissy at his brothers’ social status and relationships to recall an important bit of information that could have made that ritual thing a lot easier on them.</p><p>Kun tilts his head, confused. “We <i>are</i> blood related, why did we have trouble, then?”</p><p>“Practice,” Doyoung says matter-of-factly. “How long had it been since we last worked on a ritual of any kind?”</p><p>Oh. That sounds about right. The last time they got together for a spell was two years ago, and that’s saying a lot because they didn’t even need to gather human energy. It’s been even longer since their last ritual, Ten is pretty sure it happened six years ago when they went to the beach together and thought the mood was set for a witchy night. They were also drunk, but for some reason, it didn’t go sideways. Or maybe it did and they were just too wasted to remember.</p><p>Lost in thought, Kun just nods as Ten says, “Yeah. And it might have hit me harder because I haven’t been around.” It all makes sense now. Ten stands up and starts pacing around the kitchen because the solution to this mystery is just too upsetting for him to remain in his seat. “The ritual was performed in the house; let’s not forget I fucking fled in the middle of the night like a criminal. Remember what the Aunts said? We’re stronger together. We haven’t been ‘together’ in eleven years.”</p><p>“It still doesn’t make sense,” Kun counters. “The Aunts must have known about the requirements for performing a good circle ritual, why would they have tasked that upon us?”</p><p>It’s silent for a minute, and then Doyoung slams his palm on the table. It’s loud and unexpected, both Ten and Kun startle. </p><p>“Because they wanted to send us a message, those old hags,” Doyoung rasps, scowling into the void.</p><p>“What--”</p><p>He glares at Kun, and then at Ten, making air quotes. “<i>Stronger together</i>? Us nearly dying in a circle ritual we wouldn’t be able to perform smoothly because we haven’t been together, thus not being strong enough for it!”</p><p>Ten blinks. “I don’t think we would have died…”</p><p>“Irrelevant!” Doyoung huffs in indignation, setting to rage-wash the frying pan he used to scramble the eggs. “I’m honestly starting to think we have no reason to worry about them.”</p><p>If by any chance the Aunts knew they would struggle with the circle of protection, Doyoung’s reasoning might actually have grounds. It’s unlikely they wouldn’t know and even more unlikely that they would deathly endanger the three of them, which means they knew it wouldn’t be easy, but not harsh enough to result in death. It makes sense the Aunts would want to remind them that they’re stronger together, considering they made a mantra out of those words. The first item on their mysterious list was <i>bring Ten home</i>, for crying out loud.  </p><p>Ingenious. </p><p>Kun, who seems to have followed the trail of thought left by Doyoung, groans and moves away. “Let’s just take a breather and exorcise Jeff,” he says, already walking towards the exit. </p><p>“Wait, should we?” Ten is hesitant. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”</p><p>Kun shrugs, “I feel fine. I could do this on my own, it’s just a ghost.”</p><p>Fair enough. Ten decides, “Well, I’ll sit this one out.”</p><p>To be honest, Ten is still feeling a bit lagged, so he plans on finishing his drink and heading upstairs for a shower.</p><p>After Kun is gone, Doyoung comes closer. “Hey,” he says furtively, falling on the bench across from Ten. “Johnny was pretty worried about you last night.”</p><p>Doyoung’s tone is curious, but Ten can’t quite put a name to the look on his face. His words, though, bring unexpected warmth into the pit of Ten’s stomach. </p><p>“Yeah?” Ten recalls hearing Johnny’s voice last night and is almost certain that he was the one trying to get Ten to open his eyes. </p><p>“Yeah,” Doyoung says. He watches Ten with the kind of attention you’d see in a forensics expert looking for evidence. “You two seemed awfully cozy before it all went south. Here. On this very table.”</p><p>“Looks like everything happens on this very table, doesn’t it?” Ten plays it off, gulping down the rest of his tea and hoping it masked the tint in his cheeks. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation, what is Doyoung expecting to find in his face? Lust or something just as embarrassing?</p><p>Yes, Ten had a… Conversation with Johnny last night, and he’d be lying if he said it was just chit-chat. Something changed, Ten felt it in his marrow and he’d bet the remaining magical bits in his blood that Johnny felt it too. He doesn’t want it -- whatever it is -- to be prodded and dissected by Doyoung.</p><p>Luckily, his brother just stares at him for what feels like a whole minute and then smiles placidly before rising to his feet and leaving Ten to his own thoughts.</p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>5</b>
    <br/>
    <i>Exorcise Jeff, the ghost in the basement. He’s been in there too long.</i>
  </p>
</div>The information Kun and Doyoung collected on Jeff, their basement ghost, suggests that he was one of Aunt Sun’s boyfriends. After the break-up, Jeff was too devastated and kept coming to the house in hopes that he’d be able to persuade Aunt Sun to take him back. It all went south when Jeff fell off the roof. Ten thinks it served him well, since he was trying to break into Aunt Sun’s room when he died. Only the Goddess knows what his agenda was, but the aunts insist that Jeff was a fool of a man and would have probably just sat by Aunt Sun’s bed and stared as she slept. <p>Naturally, Jeff’s spirit haunted the rooms of the house, but he did so rather clumsily. As he roamed, Jeff broke a bunch of chairs and other furniture, as well as accidentally sucked the energy out of many of the plants in the conservatory. The aunts knew he wasn’t vengeful, just the same old fool he used to be in life. That was the main reason for them to opt for confining Jeff to the basement instead of banishing him for good, according to Kun.</p><p>“I have no idea why they decided to exorcise him now, he’s been around for more than thirty years and despite their fears, never hurt anyone.”</p><p>The basement is dusty and dimly lit. There are a couple of objects they haven’t used in years stored there, but mostly, it’s Jeff’s room. Ten coughs as poofs of dust fly up when they climb down the stairs, covering his mouth and nose with a hand.</p><p>“Man, it’s nasty in here,” Doyoung complains, letting out a few coughs himself. </p><p>Kun turns on the lights, but it doesn’t do much for the atmosphere. He looks around, both hands on his hips, and calls out, “Hey, Jeff! How is it going?”</p><p>It takes a few seconds, but a sudden breeze coming out of absolutely nowhere blows more dust at them, forcing Kun to double over in an aggressive coughing fit. Ten steps back on instinct, narrowly avoiding the dust wave, and Doyoung sneezes.</p><p>Heavy regret falls thickly over their shoulders, and Ten wants to laugh. Poor Jeff.</p><p>“Yeah, we know you didn’t mean it, but be careful with the breeze,” Ten assures. </p><p>Once he recovers, Kun frowns at nothing, looking mildly offended. Doyoung steps forward, saying, “I’m sorry to break it to you, pal, but we’re here to send you home.”</p><p>Jeff manifests concern at first, that same breeze threatening to rise more dust from the floor. Alarmed, Ten puts his hands up. “Listen up, Jeff! We know you like being around, but you’re dead, man! You should move on!”</p><p>Doyoung shares a nervous glance with Ten, and continues, “Y-yeah, dude. Aunt Sun is not here but she wanted us to let you know that this is for your own good. She was thinking of your well-being, a-as a ghost, when she asked us to exorcise you.”</p><p>It’s quiet in the basement for a moment, but soon the dust settles back down, and resignation fills the atmosphere as Jeff seems to accept his fate. Doyoung lets out a breath in relief. </p><p>“Okay. Okay, you’re not going to feel a thing,” he promises, nodding at the ghostly presence in the room. “We’re going to make this quick.”</p><p>Banishing spells are, indeed, quite simple. They bring everything they’ll need downstairs; white candles, the elements and an oak pentagram that’s supposed to aid in Jeff’s passing to the other side. Ten stands by the bottom of the staircase, watching as his brothers hold hands over the pentagram, their eyes falling closed. </p><p>The tricky part is being careful not to gather tainted energy from the ghost. Luckily, Jeff is a friendly one, so it takes Kun and Doyoung less than a minute to start chanting the banishing spell. </p><p>As they recite the words, a breeze much gentler than the previous one travels around the room, getting some specks of dust to float but not high enough to reach their noses. It happens just as quick as Doyoung said it would -- when the breeze picks up, the candle flames get a boost, then go completely out. </p><p>The absence of ghostly energy is enough to confirm that Jeff is gone.</p><p>Kun opens his eyes, inspecting his surroundings. He disentangles his and Doyoung’s hands and steps away from the pentagram. “Well. That was anticlimactic.”</p><p>“Jeff really was a fool, wasn’t he,” Doyoung muses.</p><p>“I think he was just mellow,” Ten shrugs, helping to collect their items off the floor. “Just a nice ghost haunting his beloved’s house, not a gram of ill intention in his soul. It feels sad to have him banished.”</p><p>“The aunts wanted him gone, though, maybe they had a reason,” Kun says as they make their way upstairs.</p><p>Doyoung snorts, turning off the lights and slamming the door on their way out. “What difference does it make when we have no clue what their reasons are?”</p><p>He has a point, Ten thinks. It’s hard to try and envision what the aunts were planning when they wrote that list. The theory that they got up and left gets stronger with each passing day. </p><p>Kun makes a beeline to his room, muttering about unfinished chapters and deadlines. Ten, on the other hand, follows Doyoung to the conservatory to help him with his potions and other products.</p><p>“Actually,” Doyoung says as soon as they get the bars of soap perfectly cut. “We’re having a sampling event at the store and Jaehyun was supposed to help Johnny, but he was called in at the clinic, so he can’t go.”</p><p>Ten looks up. “Clinic?”</p><p>“Yeah, Jaehyun is a doctor,” Doyoung explains, chest-puffing out and voice thick with pride. Well, what do you know. </p><p>“Really?” Ten whispers to himself, skeptic. “He looks so silly to be a doctor.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Nevermind,” Ten brushes it aside, flashing Doyoung a wide grin. “Do you want me to help at the store instead?”</p><p>Pulling wrapping paper from cabinets under the island, Doyoung gives him a pleading look. “If that’s not too much to ask. We’re always packed at sampling events and it’ll be too hectic for Johnny on his own.”</p><p>“Not at all,” Ten says, already placing his knife back in the drawer of tools and patting his hands on each other to get rid of residue. “Should I go now?”</p><p>The response doesn’t come at once, so Ten lifts his eyes to meet Doyoung’s inquisitive stare. Slowly, the look on his face shifts from curiosity to understanding, brows arching and mouth falling ajar. </p><p>“Oh,” Doyoung says, dragging out the vowel. “Right. Yeah, sure, go now.”</p><p>Ten is confused. “Should I… Not go now?”</p><p>Chuckling, Doyoung turns to wrap the soap. “Yes, go now. It’ll be just you and Johnny for a while because we open a little later for these events, but I guess you can handle that.”</p><p>His sentence is full of meaning, and Ten knows exactly what he’s trying to reach. That doesn’t stop his cheeks from catching instant, red fire. Averting his eyes, Ten clears his throat. “What do you mean by that?”</p><p>“Oh, nothing,” Doyoung says, grinning suggestively. “Make sure you’re nice to my customers.”</p><p>Ten could dig into that grin, but he’d only get his hands dirty. </p><p> </p><p>It’s obvious that Johnny wasn’t expecting Ten to show up. His eyes go wide and he rushes to unlock the door the minute he acknowledges Ten is the one knocking on the glass panels.</p><p>“Ten! Hey!” He exclaims, quickly realizing he still hasn’t made way for Ten to come in and shifting aside. Ten smiles, and threads inside. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you. Are you… Um…”</p><p>Ten shrugs off of his coat, adjusting the sleeves of the thin sweater underneath. He rests the coat on a stool, then turns to face Johnny. “Doyoung asked me to come. He said something about a sampling event?”</p><p>Johnny stares openly, lips slightly parted. He doesn’t catch up when Ten stops talking, as if he weren’t really paying attention. Ten tilts his head, interested, and Johnny startles awake.</p><p>“Oh. Oh, yeah! The event, sure,” he shakes his head, hair ruffling softly. “Yeah. Um.” Johnny scratches at his neck, watching Ten closely. “Are you okay, though? Last night was… I mean, you didn’t look so good.”</p><p>Ah, yes. Johnny was present when Ten’s consciousness failed to be brought back. <i>‘Johnny was pretty worried about you last night,’</i> Doyoung said. Could the reason for Johnny's concern be that Ten really looked on the brink of death? Or did it have anything to do with the infatuation Ten saw so clearly in Johnny’s eyes that same night, moments before he was dragged upstairs by a very suspicious brother? The memory of the way Johnny looked at him last night makes him rattle inside, something warm and tight traveling all the way up to his throat. </p><p>Ten swallows thickly, blinking rapidly in a weak attempt at dispersing his thoughts. “Yep,” he says, moving to hook his coat on the hanger located in the storage area. When he comes back, Johnny is still standing on the same spot. “I’m all good, thanks.”</p><p>Johnny gives him a once-over, as if he can’t believe Ten’s statement and has to check for himself. “Okay. That’s good.”</p><p>Nodding at him, Ten smiles. Just because Johnny looks really funny gawking at him like Ten is an apparition or something that cannot be explained. It’s amusing to the point of drawing out a laugh out of Ten. </p><p>For some reason, that seems to shake Johnny off. The sound of Ten’s laughter falls like rain over him, and he looks around himself as if unaware of the origin of the water only to realize he’s not really wet, and it’s not really raining. His eyes fall back on Ten, and with them comes a different kind of softness, one that’s round at the edges and fluffy in the middle. Cozy.</p><p>“So,” Ten says, exhaling. “Sampling event? How can I help?”</p><p>Until they open the store, Johnny explains how it’s supposed to happen and what Ten’s role is going to be. He’s to be manning the cash register as Johnny takes care of the actual sampling. As he explains how to operate the machine, Johnny stands close enough for their shoulders to touch. It’s a surprisingly comfortable feeling, Johnny’s presence right there, within Ten’s reach. Ten doesn’t think he’ll have a reason to take advantage of their proximity and <i>touch</i>, but being close to Johnny makes him feel good. </p><p>About ten minutes before opening time, people start piling up front, and by the time they finally open, there are about forty people trying to squeeze inside the small store. Forty people, for a small town, is a remarkable number.</p><p>They work in a pleasant buzz of excited people and the luscious assortment of scents coming from the products being sampled. At some point there are too many people for Johnny to see at once, so Ten steps in, observing how the other man maneuvers the products and how he addresses the customers. The atmosphere is brimming with a sparkly kind of energy, certainly an effect of the pinch of magic Doyoung sprinkled in his recipes, and the small store suddenly feels like the nicest place on earth.</p><p>Ten and Johnny brush past each other on occasion, walking to and fro, and each time it happens, their eyes meet and they’ll smile, allowing the magic in the air to dance and weave its tinkling vines around them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="http://www.twitter.com/maplemooncake">@ twitter</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>